


Gotta Get Back In Time

by Nekomata58919



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: And all that entails, Angst, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Shane/Lori, Merle being Merle, Top Rick Grimes, attempts at humor, lots of swearing, minor OCs - Freeform, nothing explicit though, slow-burn on the Rickyl romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 60,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomata58919/pseuds/Nekomata58919
Summary: Daryl has nothing left to lose. And has everything to gain. The choice is fucking nutty, but it’s easy. “I’ll be your damn guinea pig. You know what yer doin’ I guess. Better than I would.” He squares his shoulders. “Send me back in time.”





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's my first Rickyl fic!  
> I've been debating about writing one, but I decided to give it a go. I was actually watching a particular anime (how many of you will spot the references?) when this idea struck me. After just getting caught up with the show, I felt a need to make a fix-it fic... of sorts. There's still going to be some deaths, but, like, not as many?
> 
> Any-who, without further ado, here it is. Please enjoy! :D

         Alone.

         The road stretches on for miles ahead. Scraggly trees give way to open fields, only for the road to plunge back into forest. The only sounds to be heard are the errant chirps of birds, pockmarked with the occasional rasping groan of a walker, underscored by the rumbling of Daryl’s motorcycle. And that was all.

         Riding his motorcycle had always been a source of comfort. An escape if he couldn’t otherwise go hunting. With the wind whipping through his hair, Daryl could pretend to be free. Pretend everything was alright.

         But it wasn’t.

         Nothing was alright. Nothing would ever be alright again.

         Daryl had thought similarly at the beginning of the end, though he’d been proven wrong. He had thought the same when Merle died. Had thought the same when Beth died. When Glenn died. When Carl died. He’d been wrong. But now… Now he knew for sure.

         Because there had been a few constants throughout many of those horrible moments. And now they were gone too.

         Aaron.

 

         Jesus.

 

         Tara.

 

         Michonne.

 

         Maggie.

 

         Carol.

 

         Judith…

 

_Rick._

 

         Daryl repeats their names over and over. Bites back a sob. The only reason he hasn’t ended it all is because of them. Because if he dies, who will remember them? If he dies, then they do too. For real. History would forget.

         And that’s not fair. Daryl can’t allow that. The world may keep on moving without them, but _his_ world won’t.

         The road tilts up, then dips back down. A walker gurgles from a ditch, reaching a decaying arm out in the hopes of catching a meal. The crow feasting on its detached legs caws once. Twice. Then swoops across the road and into a tree.

         Pink and orange light up the sky as the sun sinks down, down, down below the horizon. Inky blackness takes over, the spattering of stars overhead are covered by ashen clouds.

         And Daryl is alone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         The town Daryl arrives at is mostly deserted. The few walkers populating the area are attracted by the noise of his motorcycle but he quickly dispatches of them with several accurate arrows. Not even a challenge after everything he’s been through.

         Daryl swings his leg back over his bike. Maybe there’s a few places that haven’t been raided yet. It doesn’t seem likely but it’s better to be safe than sorry. His throat tightens and he grips the handles of his motorcycle.

         That’s when he notices movement. Too quick to be a walker. Daryl chews at his bottom lip, debating whether it’s worth it to investigate or not. However, before he can truly mull it over, the choice is made for him.

         A man steps out from behind a building, hands up in defense. “Hello there!” His greeting is cheerful.

         Daryl wonders if the man is an idiot.

         “Thanks for taking care of those. I, um, have never really been one for fighting them. I don’t have the stomach for it. Not up close anyway,” the man explains, approaching an inching step at a time.

         “Mhm.”

         “I have a lab nearby. Well, a house, but you use what you can nowadays,” the man says with a chuckle. “I have food though. You can have some?”

         “You have people?” Daryl asks, eyes narrowed.

         The man shakes his head. “I’m alone. I promise.”

 

         Daryl isn’t sure what makes him agree to follow the guy. He does have some food still, and he could always go hunting, but even so.

         The ranch house the man leads him to is a decent size. Not too rundown. The chain-link fence surrounding the place has weird devices placed on it though. Traps, no doubt.

         “You must be tired Mr…?” the tall man glances over his shoulder as he leads Daryl inside. His brown hair is short and wild and he’s got some scruff on his chin. Glasses perched on his nose add to the crazy scientist vibe the man gives off.

         Daryl eyes him suspiciously before grunting out, “Daryl.”

         “Daryl, nice to meet you. I am Michael. Michael Olson.” The man, Michael, whirls around—long black coat fanning out around him—to grasp Daryl’s hand to shake it. “You have _no_ idea how good it is to see another person after so long.”

         “Don’t” Daryl snaps yanking his hand back. “An’ you don’t know me. So you shouldn’t be happy to see me.”

         Undeterred by Daryl’s surly response, Michael leads him over to a microwave. He pulls it open and holds out a can. “Canned bananas?” At the raised eyebrow from Daryl, Michael sighs and plonks the can down on a table. “You should sleep and eat. It’s late. I can explain in the morning.”

         Daryl looks around again.

         The house/lab is filled with strange equipment. Mostly stuff that could be stolen from hospitals or even high school science labs. Beakers, tubes, hot plates, and wires galore. Strewn throughout are also ordinary items but the way they’re tied in with the rest makes Daryl wonder what exactly they’re being used for.

         “It’s perfectly safe here. There haven’t been any dead wandering by in a while. Even if they were I have some traps set up so please, sit anywhere,” Michael says, gesturing vaguely.

         Daryl supposes it could be worse. The guy isn’t setting off any alarms anyway. He might not be able to sleep, but a rest is much needed.

         After finally finding a spot—despite saying anywhere, the amount of “No, not there!”’s that had followed Daryl’s attempt at finding a cleared area—Daryl settled down. Resting his crossbow over his legs, he allows himself to doze.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Morning comes, and with it the smell of cooking baked beans. Despite Daryl’s best efforts, the temptation of food is too great.

         Michael cheerfully serves him a bowl and sits across from him on the table. The chairs had apparently been commandeered for other uses. “I’m sure you must be curious. This lab is pretty fantastic!”

         Daryl squints at him and shovels more beans into his mouth in lieu of an answer. He’s still not sure he should stick around to listen to Michael. Not that he really has much better things to be doing. Not any more.

         “I was about to give up actually. But then you showed up!” Michael grins from ear to ear. “Of course, I might have been able to do it alone, but then how would I record my findings?”

         “Findings fer what?” Daryl asks against his better judgment.

         “Time travel!” Michael leaps up from the table. “And now before you say I’m crazy, I know what I’m talking about.” Bounding over the piles of _stuff_ , he pulls over a white board. “Expanding on the theory of multiverse, or perhaps related to, are multiple timelines.”

         Daryl watches as Michael begins scrawling furiously on the whiteboard.

         “This is our current timeline.” Michael jabs a finger at one of many lines. Then points to the lines intersecting and branching off. “And these are all the timelines. Well, not all, just an example obviously. The timelines—” Michael scribbles some things Daryl doesn’t get onto the whiteboard “—are all created as we make our choices. Every second more are being created!

         That’s where my invention comes in. I have been able to access some of these alternate timelines. Effectively allowing the ability to go back in time!” Michael drops his marker and turns to face Daryl. “I just haven’t yet tested it on a person.”

         Daryl stands, snatching up his crossbow. “An’ you wanna make me yer guinea pig?” he growls. This is bullshit. Crazy talk. Daryl should have left in the night when Michael had fallen asleep. “That’s what I’m here for?”

         “No! Not at all! Well, not unless you want to be,” Michael says, raising placating hands. “I was hoping to use it on myself. But as I said, it would have been damn near impossible to record my findings. _You_ could do that.”

         Oh. Daryl relaxes a hair. “I ain’t good at science-y shit.” He’s about to leave it at that, when something occurs to him. Time travel. If it were true he could stop… But it can’t be true. Can it? Daryl chews at his thumbnail. What if it is though? Could he really pass up the chance?

         If everyone could be alive again, it would be worth it. And if he dies… Maybe it would be for the best. He could tell Michael about his people, then they wouldn’t be forgotten, even if this goes tits up.

         “I have my notes somewhere. We have time to discuss everything.” Michael laughs. “ _Time!_ Ah, but I wouldn’t have you help me completely blind of course—”

         “I’ll do it.”

         Michael stares. “What?”

         Daryl has nothing left to lose. And has everything to gain. The choice is fucking nutty, but it’s easy. “I’ll be your damn guinea pig. You know what yer doin’ I guess. Better than I would.” He squares his shoulders. “Send me back in time.”

 

         “Alright, so I’ve set the timer for, ah, three years to be safe,” Michael says as he sets up the equipment. “Hopefully before all of this starts. That means you have time to come find me and tell me about this. Then I can help stop the dead from becoming as big of a problem as they are.”

         Daryl looks away from the popcorn ceiling and frowns at Michael. “An’ what makes you think people ain’t gonna think yer crazy?”

         Michael grins. “Believe it or not, but I was quite respected among my peers Before. They may not believe in the dead rising up, but I can work around it.” He grabs some wires attached to some pad-like things and presses them to Daryl’s temples. “Now, if this works, you will have to get me to believe you’re from the future. I don’t think I’ll be hard to convince, really. It’s always been a dream of mine to make time travel a reality. But just in case, all you have to do is mention the name Terri Mahoney. I’ll know then for sure.”

         “Right… Got it.” Daryl licks his lips. “But first can ya…can ya do somethin’ fer me?”

         Michael’s thin brows raise, but he nods. “Yes, of course. What?”

         Daryl shifts in his seat. “There are some people that need to be remembered. If this… If I can’t do it, then you need to.”

         A hand gently lays on Daryl’s shoulder. Michael gives him a sad knowing smile before moving to grab a pen and some paper. “Tell me.”

         Daryl lists the names. Tells their story—the abbreviated version for the sake of his own sanity. He ignores the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He won’t cry. Not anymore, because this has to work. It will work and they’ll be alive and they won’t die again. Daryl won’t allow it.

         Michael dutifully records it all and places the papers into a file. He writes something on the front of the manila folder and sets them into a box. “There. History will remember you all fondly. Whether this works or not.”

         “Let’s just get this over with,” Daryl replies. Before he loses his nerve, because this is still stupidly risky. Never would he have done something like this before; but, now he has no choice. If there’s even the smallest chance this could work, he needs to take it.

         “Alright-y then!” Michael claps his hands together before turning away and fiddling with his machines. “Close your eyes—wouldn’t want you to loose eyesight in the transfer—”

         “What!?”

         “—and relax. When you ‘wake up’, you should be back in time.” Michael shoots him a thumbs up. “Oh. I should also mention that, aside from myself, you should probably avoid telling anyone you’re from the future. For many reasons.”

         Daryl takes a deep breath, exhales, and closes his eyes. The _click_ of a switch being flipped echoes in the large room. A fuzzy feeling spreads from Daryl’s temples through his face and down his neck. It reminds him of the feeling he gets when a foot falls asleep.

         Strangely, it’s almost soothing. Comforting, as it eases down his body and stops in his toes. It pulses, rhythmically. A kaleidoscope of colors swirls behind Daryl’s eyelids. Those pulse too.

Daryl drifts. A soft hum in his ears has him edging towards sleep. It’s been so long since he’s truly slept. So, so long.

The world yanks away from Daryl. The feeling of falling has him lurching forward, arms out, eyes snapping open.


	2. At The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being that I don't have a beta, I had to go over this one myself several times. Any mistakes are mine, of course. Still, I hope you all like this. Please let me know what you think! ^_^

         Dappled sunlight slips through the yellow-green leaves overhead. Daryl blinks, sways away from the tree. Nausea bubbles up in his stomach and he quickly turns to hurl into the bushes.

 _Bushes?_ Daryl swipes his arm across his mouth and looks around. He was in a copse of trees, no longer sitting in some nut’s house with wires taped to his head. _Did it work?_

         Voices carry on the gentle wind—and not just any voices. They’re so familiar that Daryl feels actual pain in his chest. Following them, he makes his way out into a camp. _The_ camp. Complete with tents, trucks, and RV.

         “Fuck you, _Pig_! I don’t give a damn watchu think!”

         Daryl almost collapses right then and there. That scratchy, irritated voice that sounded perpetually on the verge of laryngitis was at once both a soothing balm and irritating as hell. “Merle!”

         Merle turns from—Shane!? The hell?—and fixes Daryl with an annoyed sneer. “Where the hell you been, Darlina?” he demands. “’Cause I can see you ain’t been huntin’ like you were s’pposed to.”

         Daryl is too caught up in what he’s seeing to respond. Merle is alive. And they’re in camp. Along with Shane, Lori, Dale, Adrea, Amy… _Oh god, Carol!_ She’s sitting off to the side, doing laundry while Sofia plays with some grass beside her.

         “Hey guys, we going yet or what?” Glenn asks, leaning against a truck.

         Glenn—young, dopey, stupidly optimistic Glenn with his head still in one piece. Daryl doesn’t even realize he’s breathing funny until Merle smacks him on the back.

         “The fuck’s the matter witchu?” Merle snaps, nose scrunched up irritably.

         That gets Daryl’s attention. “Nothin’. ‘M fine.”

         Merle snorts, unconvinced, but doesn’t press the matter.

         “What’s goin’ on?” Daryl has a feeling he knows where—when—he is, but it’d be better to know for sure. “Goin’ somewhere?”

         “A supply run,” T-Dog says, passing Glenn to get into the truck. He’s followed by Andrea, Morales, and Jacqui.

         Dread creeps up Daryl’s spine. He’d hoped he was wrong, but no, it was the day. Where Merle was left behind, handcuffed to a roof and had hack his own hand off. “I’m goin’ too.”

         Merle shakes his head. “Nah, your stayin’ here, little brother. These idiots can’t take care of ‘emsleves obviously.”

         Unlike before, Daryl actually hears the underlying message. _This is dangerous. I don’t want you hurt._ But instead of storming off as he would have, he pushes. “I _ain’t_ askin’ permission. I’m goin’ too.”

         Merle looks about to argue but a sharp whistle from Andrea interrupts him.

         “We don’t have time for this. Get in already,” she huffs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl is scoping out the perimeter of the building the group had holed up in. When he’d first gotten there and saw his reflection in the store window, he was shocked. Not that he really should have been. It was just that he had gotten so used to his longer, darker hair. He had run his fingers through the short, dirty-blonde strands and grunted. Not only that he was lacking a bit of the muscle mass he’d acquired through the years. Great.

         A commotion inside gets his attention. Shouting filters through the building before being abruptly cut off by gunshots. From the roof. _Shit_.

         Footsteps rushing towards the roof are Daryl’s cue to hurry the fuck up. He races up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, and busts through the door to the roof.

         “I think it’s ‘bout time fer some new leadership!” Merle is shouting, waving a gun about and clearly high as balls. “I nominate m’self!”

         A man smacks Merle with the butt of his rifle and Daryl takes the moment to tackle his brother. Or try to anyway. The guy is built like a brick wall and moves about as much as one. “Quit it, Merle!”

         “Get offa me!” Merle snarls, pushing Daryl away. “The hell you think yer doin’, boy?”

         “I _think_ I’m keepin’ ya from doin’ somethin’ stupid! Like usual!” Daryl retorts, grabbing the gun off the ground before Merle can pick it back up. A hand on his shoulder has him whirling around, ready to sock whoever it was.

         And he froze.

         Cobalt eyes stare directly into his own. _Rick_. It takes every ounce of willpower Daryl possesses to not crumple into the man’s arms, much as he had when he’d gotten out of the Sanctuary. The last time he’d seen those eyes… Dulled to gray, vacant, nearly rolled back in his head. Blood everywhere.

         “Who are you?” Rick asks, no, demands. While nowhere near the battle hardened tone Daryl was used to, it was still charged with power and control.

         “Daryl. Dixon,” Daryl says once his mouth decided to start working again.

         “Well, Daryl, I hope you can keep your...brother? Under control. He doesn’t work and play well with others,” Rick warns.

         He’s so close. Daryl barely remembers to nod. Then he snorts. “I can’t promise nothin’. But I’ll try.” Lowering his voice he ads—only because he trusts Rick, “It might be easier if he weren’t high off his ass all the time.”

         Seeing Rick’s expression soften ever so slightly, Daryl knows he made the right call.

         “Hey! No-one controls Merle but Merle,” Merle snaps. “’Specially not you or Officer Friendly here.”

         Maybe Daryl should have let Rick cuff him to the roof. For a little while at least. Death has a funny way of making you forgot how god damned annoying someone can be. But no, Daryl knows he wouldn’t give up his jackass of a brother like that. Besides, with them he wouldn’t be able to join with the Governor. Hopefully.

         “Not an officer anymore. I’m just a man tryin' to find his wife and son. Now, I was hopin' to find the refugee center that’s supposed to be in this city,” Rick replies, sounding tired.

         “That place was a pipe dream. There’s no refugee center. Not anymore,” Morales says, shaking his head. “If they were here in Atlanta, they won’t be anymore. The only ones around anymore are us.”

         Daryl wants to assure Rick that his family is with them, safe, but he can’t. Because there’s no way the Daryl from this time would know. It fucking sucks.

         “We have a camp not too far out from the city. You could come back with us,” Morales offers.

         “That’s not yer call to make anyway, _señor_ ,” Merle sneers. He rolls his eyes and spits on the ground when everyone ignores him.

         “I can’t get a signal to ‘em,” T-Dog reports, turning off the radio he’d been tampering with.

         Rick sighs. “Looks like we’re on our own,” he says, peering over the edge at the sea of walkers below.

         “Look at all those geeks,” Glenn mutters, looking faintly green around the gills.

         Rick paces. “Is there any way around?” He stops, and faces them. “What about underground?”

         “There are sewers running under the city. They should work,” Jacqui agrees.

         “How do you know?” Glenn asks.

         Jacqui smirks. “I used to work for the zoning office. This is an old building, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a flood tunnel we could use to get out into the sewers.”

 

         “I’m going alone. If something goes wrong, I don’t want everyone jamming up behind me and keeping me from escaping,” Glenn protests. He looks down at the tunnel again, brows furrowed.

         “Tch, why y’all wanna go anyway… The Chinamen is tiny, he can crawl through all them sewers alone,” Merle says.

         Without really thinking, Daryl snaps, “Shut it, Merle. An’ he’s Korean.” Feeling eyes on him, he looks up.

         Glenn’s wide eyes crinkle into a grateful smile.

         Rick and the others are looking at him with thinly veiled surprise as well.

         “Whatever.” Merle mutters.

         After that, the plan is decided and set into motion.

 

         Daryl watches Rick and Glenn’s bloody progress from the roof with everyone else. He’d have offered to go with them had he not known they’d make it out. As long as everything went according to last time. Besides, if shit went down he’d be able to shoot some walkers from here just fine.

         Still when the rain comes, Daryl can’t help but worry. Just a little. And it’s not like anyone would know he was worried. They all had to remain calm and finish the plan. Daryl couldn’t fuck it up by being a bitch about it.

         “Get your panties untwisted and let’s go, Darlina!” Merle snaps, practically dragging Daryl away from the roof’s edge.

         Just stay calm.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         On the drive back to the camp, Daryl has time to think. Specifically, about the fact that he had ended up in the wrong time. Michael had said he was to be sent back three years. While it might have been close, he’d been off. So that left a problem. Should Daryl still try to find him?

         It was a little too late to do anything about the walkers. And honestly, Daryl had more important things to worry about now. Such as keeping as many of these people alive as possible. A burst of happiness floods Daryl at the fact that, so far, he’d succeeded in at least keeping his brother out of danger. _Despite the dumb-ass’ best attempts_.

         Daryl looks over to where Merle is crouched in the corner of the van, glowering at a wall. He can be angry all he wants, so long as he lives. Daryl can deal with a pissed off Merle. He’s used to it after all.

 

         Daryl had forgotten just had damn noisy this group had been. The raised voices outside the van make him roll his eyes. No wonder the walkers had been drawn to them before. Huffing quietly to himself, Daryl exits the van and joins his brother on the edge of the group.

         Carl is there, standing just behind Lori. And Daryl is going to have to stop having near heart-attacks every time he sees someone alive and well again because it’s not going to end well for anyone.

         “Dad!” Carl shouts.

         Rick embraces his son and wife. He clings to them as if they might disappear the second he lets go.

         Daryl hates Lori more than ever. He’d never been a fan of her before, but now, seeing the reunion and just how relieved Rick is… Daryl tries to keep his expression disinterested. He manages a quick side glare in Shane’s direction, though. Assholes, the both of them.

 

         The low fire crackles and sparks. Its warm glow gives off enough light to be comforting in the dark, without being a signal to any nearby walkers. Unlike the fire Ed has going.

         Skulking along the edges of the group, Daryl glares daggers at the man. He wonders how much trouble he’d get in for landing a bolt between the douche bag's eyes right here and now. Carol would be upset, sure, but she’d get over it. Eventually. Daryl knew she was strong enough to.

         “Hey.”

         Daryl heard the footsteps approaching. He’d known from those alone who it was. Still he felt a little flutter of...something when he turned to face Rick. “’Sup?”

         Rick smiles. It’s not very big, but it’s friendly and genuine. “You know you can sit with all of us, right?”

         “Keepin’ an eye out. Fer walkers,” Daryl replies with a shrug. In truth, he doesn’t know if he can sit with everyone without giving himself away. He’s not an actor and he doesn’t think now’s a great time to try it out. No, he needs to take some time and get himself in the right head-space.

         “Dale didn’t see any earlier, and we should be fine if one shows up,” Rick says.

         Daryl snorts. “An’ if a whole herd shows up?” But then again, Rick has a point. And as he recalls, no walkers show up tonight anyway. No, that’ll be tomorrow. Daryl shakes his head. “This place ain’t safe. We should go somewhere else.”

         “They won’t. We would hear them comin' anyway I think,” Rick assures him. He rests his hands on his hips and looks around. “As for safety. You may be right. _But_ , for tonight, we might as well take a moment of peace while we have it.”

         Well, Merle _is_ out hunting and Shane’s quieted Ed. He could relax. Just a little. Daryl, ever unable to truly deny Rick, gives a tiny nod and follows him back over to the group. His lips twitch in an attempted smile when the others great him politely. Well, except Shane and Lori, but he doesn’t give two craps about their opinions of him.

         Rick tells the story of how he woke from the coma to find the world had gone to shit. How he’d done everything he could to try and find his family.

         Daryl hadn’t thought he was capable of respecting Rick more, but he knew now he’d been wrong.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl finds Merle in their tent, asleep already after a successful hunt. Or at least, he thought he was asleep.

         The light flicks on and Merle sits up, scowling. “You wanna tell me what’s up witchu today?”

         Sighing, Daryl drops onto his sleeping bag. “Nothin’s up with me.”

         “Donchu lie to me.” Merle jabs an angry finger in his direction. “You been actin’ funny all day. You backtalkin’ me like I ain’t the one what looked after you after Pa died. Is this the thanks I get fer everythin’ I done fer you?”

         “I ain’t lyin’ to ya,” Daryl sighs. He is, but there’s no way Merle would believe anything about time travel. He’d think Daryl had lost it and shoot him to put him out of his misery. “But ya need to start bein’ civil to everyone. We’re safer in a group than on our own.”

         Merle gives him a look as though Daryl had not only sprouted a second head, but had strapped on some tap shoes and performed a musical number. “I ain’t never been civil to a damn officer before and I ain’t startin’ now. We should just leave tomorrow or somethin’. I took care of things before, don’t see why I can’t keep that up. We don’t need no-one but us, little brother. The sooner you remember that, the better.”

         The light flicks off and Daryl watches as Merle flops back down and rolls over, putting his back to him. Daryl shakes his head and lays down as well. Despite what Merle says, Daryl knows they won’t leave.

         For once, Daryl drops off into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments everyone!

         “I’m goin’ back,” Rick says, gaze traveling over Lori and Carl to Shane. “I left a bag back there. It’s got guns, ammo, and a walkie-talkie. I can’t just leave those things there. Especially the walkie. I owe it to Morgan to warn him away from the city.”

         Daryl shakes his head, though no-one can really see from where he’s hanging back from the others. He remembers what happens in Atlanta when they go back. It’s not worth it. Even if Morgan is a good man, there’s not really anything to be done about it. Not like he got the messages anyway.

         “You just came back, Rick! And now, _now_ you want to leave us again to go get _guns_?” Lori throws her hands up. “I can’t believe you.”

         “It wouldn’t just be me. I can take Daryl with me. And Glenn, he knows the city,” Rick replies, trying to get his wife to see reason.

         And Daryl can’t let it happen. Not this time. “Don’t think it’s a good idea,” he pipes up.

         Rick turns to look at him.

         Daryl bites the inside of his bottom lip. “’S just guns, Rick. We can find more. ‘S not worth it.”

         “Thank you!” Lori gives a huff. “See, Rick? Even someone like him can see it’s a bad idea.”

         And Daryl has to remind himself to just let it go. It was possible she was already pregnant with Lil’ Ass-kicker. But seriously, s _omeone like him_? He really shouldn’t let it get to him—he knew the bitch hated him anyway, thought she was better than him ( _and maybe she was_ )—but that didn’t mean she got to say shit like that about him like he wasn’t even there.

         “Please, Dad, can’t you just stay?” Carl asks. He looks like he’s trying not to pout.

         Rick looks around at the group. Realizing no-one is backing him up on this one, he seems to let it go. “Fine.”

         Daryl feels like shit, but it had to be done. If they were all gone like last time they would be vulnerable to the walker attack. Amy, Jim, and Ed would die. _Not that Ed’s a major loss anyway_ , Daryl muses.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl is on edge all day. Having been with Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog the last time, he doesn’t know when to expect the walker attack exactly. It’s driving him fucking nuts. And so he goes to hunt. Maybe it’s a waste of effort, they likely won’t get much of a chance to eat it, but it will get his mind off the shit storm headed their way.

         As he creeps through the trees, Daryl feels a sense of normalcy. And for that he wants to laugh. Nothing about any of this, past, present, or future is normal. First the dead rose up and attacked the living, and now he had traveled through time. If aliens showed up Daryl wasn’t sure he’d even be remotely surprised.

         His thoughts turn back to the past. Or the present. Whatever. Daryl knows they’re going to leave eventually. If Jim doesn’t get bitten, then they’ll have no reason to go to the CDC. And if he _does_ get bit, Daryl will have to try and convince Rick not to go to the CDC.

         Daryl stops his tracking and leans against the rough bark of a nearby oak. They couldn’t go to the CDC, no matter what. They had to go straight to Hershel’s farm. And then what? How could they get Hershel to let them stay without Carl getting shot or Sophia going missing? Daryl growled and thumped his head back against the tree. Trying to get his family back without losing anyone was going to be near impossible. But Daryl won’t give up.

 

         Down in the quarry, Daryl spots Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, and Carol doing laundry. Ed is lounging against a truck. Watching. And doing absolutely nothing himself, the slacker. Daryl grits his teeth and starts making his way down the steep path, gravel crunching beneath his boots. The ladies’ laughter echos up from below and Daryl’s frown melts a little. It’s been too long since he’s heard everyone so happy.

         That is until Ed tromps over and looms above them.

         “Don’t think I won’t knock you on your ass,” Andrea’s voice carries, sharp.

         Ed says something Daryl can’t hear from where he is. But he can see the bastard grabbing Carol roughly by the arm.

         The other women try to intervene.

_Smack!_

         The sound of Ed slapping Carol across the faces echoes through the quarry.

         Daryl sees red.

         One moment he’s getting to the bottom of the path, the next he’s flinging punches into Ed’s ugly face. The man is trying to get him off but Daryl is relentless. Curses fly from Daryl’s lips as he pounds Ed into a bloody pulp. There’s screaming and crying and Ed’s trying to escape. _How dare he lay his hands on Carol_.

         “Stop! Please!”

         Daryl doesn’t hear it.

         Hands grab his arms and Daryl’s yanked away. “Hey, that’s enough!” Shane snaps. “You’re gonna kill him.”

         “Good!” Daryl snarls, trying to wrench himself from Shane’s grasp. The fucker pulls him into a choke hold. “Hey! Choke hold’s illegal!”

         “Yeah, well, you can go file a complaint,” Shane grunts, keeping Daryl in place.

         “What the hell is going on?” Rick demands, finally arriving at the scene.

         Andrea shoots a glare at Ed. “That _ass_ slapped Carol. Then Daryl showed up and beat the shit out of him.”

         Daryl feels a bit like a fish as he tries to flop and wriggle his way out of Shane’s hold. It wasn’t working and all he was doing was tiring himself out. Then Rick is in his field of view and Daryl goes limp.

         “Let him go, Shane,” Rick says lowly.

         “So he can attack Ed again?” Shane snorts. “I think it’s best we wait a little longer so Ed can get out of here.”

         Rick frowns at his friend. “Let him go. _Now._ ”

         As soon as Shane does, Daryl squirms away and rockets up onto his feet. Panting, he fixes a glare on Shane before turning to Rick. “We can’t let that asshole stay here. Either we leave ‘im somewhere out there, or shoot ‘im. But he _can’t stay_.” Before Rick can answer, Daryl casts a glance at Carol who’s shaking and crying, and storms off.

         “Daryl!” Rick calls after him.

         He knew Ed had tormented Carol before, but he’d never actually seen it firsthand. Daryl tries to get the sounds of her crying out of his head. It makes him want to go back and comfort her, but in this time they don’t know each other well enough for that.

         “Lookit you, baby brother! Looks like you finally grew a pair,” Merle chuckles as Daryl stomps past. Following, Merle continues, “Hey, maybe now you can fuck her.”

         Daryl feels a little sick at the thought. “Shut up, Merle. It ain’t like that.” Carol is more like an older sister or something. Not like it matters, even if he didn’t know her at all, seeing Ed smack her like that would have resulted in the same thing.

         Merle cackles. “Nah? How come I don’t believe you?” He slings an arm around Daryl's shoulders.

         “’Cause yer an asshole,” Daryl retorts with little heat.

         “Never claimed otherwise.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         When Jim goes off the deep end, digging his holes, Daryl knows the real danger is about to show up. And as the day fades into night, his anxiety spikes. They have to go. The have to go right now.

         Daryl spots Rick and Shane speaking quietly away from the others. Shane looks annoyed and stomps away. Now’s his chance. “Rick.”

         Rick comes to meet him halfway and sighs. “Where have you been?” he asks. Not demanding, just tired.

         Daryl wishes that things would get easier for him, but he knows it won’t. At least, not unless Daryl can fix things. “Huntin’,” he replies. “Clears my head.” But this isn’t what he wants to talk about.

         “Look, I may not agree with you beatin’ Ed half to death, but I do agree he needs to go.” Rick plants his hands on his hips and watches the group inspect the new campfire Morales set up.

         Daryl huffs. “Great. We need to leave.”

         Rick blinks at him. “Leave? Now?”

         “Yes, _now._ ”

         A scream pierces the air.

         “Fuck!” Daryl pulls his crossbow off his back and shoots into the dark. A wet _thwack_ tells him he hit his mark. “WALKERS!”

         The camp panics.

 

 

         When all is said and done, Daryl figures that with Ed dead and Amy bite free, it was a success. Mostly a success. Jim would probably disagree.

         “We don’t kill the livin’,” Rick growls, trying to defend Jim from the rest of the group.

         Daryl wants to snort, but refrains. Yeah, _we don’t kill the living_ , a great line from someone who later rips a man’s throat out with his teeth. Not that Daryl was really complaining about _that_ particular show of ferocity. He tried not to think about it usually though.

         “The CDC.” Rick looks hopeful. “The CDC isn’t too far from Atlanta.”

          _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Daryl shakes his head. “Nah. It won’t work.”

         “Fort Benning would be better,” Shane says, one hand on his hip, the other running over his hair. “It’d have food and shelter.”

         “And it’s probably been overrun,” Rick replies, shaking his head. “We can’t risk it.”

         “What makes you think Jimmy boy here’ll make it to either one?” Merle asks, rolling his eyes. “Probably just drop dead on the way there.”

         Daryl nods. Mostly because that’s exactly what happens. “An’ if the CDC had a cure they’d be usin’ it already. More likely they’ve been overrun too. Or it’s abandoned.”

         Rick paces. “We can’t just… What are we supposed to do then? We can’t stay here either.”

         “We could just get out on the highway?” Amy suggests, fiddling with the mermaid necklace draped around her neck. “Then we’d be going somewhere. Maybe meet some others.”

         “And Jim?” Rick asks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Jim, as before, doesn’t make it very far. Daryl feels guilty, despite knowing there was nothing to be done. Though honestly, on the spectrum of losses he’s had to deal with, Jim wasn’t a priority. And that’s probably what makes the guilt that tiny bit worse.

         The highway is just as clogged up as it was the last time. The odor of rot hangs in the air, but the scarce amount of walkers stuck in or under cars are easy to get rid of. The Georgia heat makes the stench worse, but no-one complains as they work to clear the road.

Daryl can only hope that, because of their early arrival, the herd won’t pass through; and Sofia won’t get lost. Then he can try and get everyone to Hershel’s farm anyway. From there he can try to think up a proper plan of action.

         He stabs the last walker between the eyes and sighs. Daryl isn’t a planner. Rick is, but Rick doesn’t know what he knows. Hauling himself up onto a car, Daryl shields his eyes from the bright sunlight with his hand and scans the area. The one good thing about doing this all again was that he didn’t need to plan much. Just enough to keep everyone alive so Rick could lead them all properly.

         “Where the hell is it!?” Merle shouts.

         Daryl doesn’t even bother turning. He jumps down off the car and hurries over to hopefully shut Merle up.

         “Where’s what?” Shane asks, shifting to stand next to Rick with his arms crossed.

         Merle snarls and grabs Rick by the front of his shirt. “Cough ‘em up, Officer Friendly. I know you got ‘em!”

         Rick looks unimpressed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

         “Wait, what?” Shane frowns at him. “What did you take?”

         “Merle let ‘im go,” Daryl snaps. “If ya keep up yer yellin’ you’ll draw walkers.”

         Merle lets go of Rick and rounds on Daryl. “I’ll yell as much as I wanna, you hear? Sheriff Rick here stole my stash!” He crowds into Daryl’s space. “I never pegged you for a snitch, little brother.”

         “Why don’t we all back up and cool off, huh?” Dale interrupts, smile uneasy.

         “Why dontchu shut your mouth?” Merle pushes Daryl away to turn his wrath on Dale. “This ain’t none of your business. Unless _you_ have my stuff?”

         “No-one has your meth, Merle,” Rick says. “It’s gone.”

         The resounding silence could be broken with the drop of a pin.

         Merle turns and stalks over to Rick. “Gone?” he growls.

         “Gone,” Rick repeats, face stony. “At the bottom of the lake in the quarry.”

         Swearing, Merle swings a punch at Rick’s face.

         Rick dodges and Shane rushes in to help. The two dodge Merle’s enraged fists and attempt to restrain him. Luckily, they seem used to dealing with Merle’s type and they managed to wrangle him to the ground pretty quickly.

         “Get the fuck offa me!” Merle attempts to shake them off to no luck.

         The brawl was inevitable. Daryl only wishes it happened later. Especially when he sees Carol rushing over, eyes wide with panic.

         “Stop!”

         Everyone goes still at the shear distress in Carol’s voice.

         “Where’s Sofia?” Carol is near to crying. “I can’t find her!”

_No._

         Not again. Daryl can’t go through this again. Carol can’t go through this again. “Sofia!” he calls, stumbling over a downed walker in his haste to find the girl. _Please don’t let her be gone_.

         “Sofia!”

         “SOFIA!”

         “Where are you? Sofia!”

         “ _Sofia!_ Please!”

         But they don’t get a response. Daryl sees Carol drop to her knees on the road, sobbing.

         “She’s gone!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I do have a general idea/outline for where this is going, I've also left room for spontaneity. So, if there's things you'd like to see in this, let me know and I'll see if I can work them in. :)


	4. The Farm

         Daryl and Rick lead the group through the woods. It takes a bit of memory jogging, but Daryl soon remembers which way to go to get the farm. Luckily, no-one questions him due to his superior tracking skills. Merle would have, had he not also been busy tracking as well. Daryl is pleasantly surprised by his brother’s willingness to help look for Sofia.

         “You’ll have to teach me to track sometime. I have no idea what you’re seein’,” Rick remarks with a half smile.

         Daryl can’t help a tiny smile of his own. “I can try. Ya are pretty shit at it right now,” he teases.

         Rick huffs a laugh and they fall back into silence.

 

         Then Rick decides they should stop to rest and that he, Shane, and Carl will go hunting.

         “Wait, we should keep goin’. We don’t wanna waste time that could be spent lookin’ fer Sofia,” Daryl protests. Yes he wants to get to the farm, but he doesn’t want Carl to get shot in the process.

         “I know, I want to find her too,” Rick says. “But the others are tired, and we can’t keep goin’ on slimmin’ rations. You’ve been doin’ a lot here, Daryl. I’m thinkin’ Shane and I should do our share at least sometimes.”

         Daryl would find that amusing if worry wasn’t blocking out every other emotion. “We gotta be close to findin’ her. It could be dangerous to hunt out there. What if one of ya accidentally hit her while yer huntin’?” It’s a lame excuse.

         Rick shakes his head. “Believe it or not, neither Shane or myself are that bad at huntin’. Maybe no match for your skills, but have some faith. We need you here to keep everyone safe while we’re out though.”

         Crap. Daryl can’t really think of a way to get them to stay with them. Not without drawing suspicion anyway. So he nods. Maybe the fact that they’re a day ahead of ‘schedule’ would mean Carl would be fine.

         As the day wears on, however, Daryl knows that chance grows slimmer. He paces along the edges of the group where they’d stopped to rest and chews on a hangnail. If only they’d left sooner.

         “You should sit,” Amy tells him. “I want us to find her too, but like Rick said, we can’t do that if we’re exhausted.”

         Jacqui, who was sitting beside her, nods. “You seemed confident that we’d find Sofia earlier. I’m sure she’s okay, just scared and hiding. We’ll find her soon.”

         Daryl shakes his head and keeps pacing. They’re right. He knows it. And if they manage to get to Hershel’s quicker than before, then maybe he can stop Sofia from getting into the barn. But he can’t just sit on his ass and wait either.

         A rustling in the underbrush nearby catches his attention and he quickly draws his crossbow.

         Growling and snarling, a walker staggers out into the open. But before anyone can do anything, a horse gallops through and the walker’s head is smashed with a baseball bat.

         Daryl recognizes the woman on the horse immediately.

         “Lori Grimes?” Maggie calls, eyes sweeping over the group.

         Lori steps forward, eyes wide. “Yes?”

         Maggie waves her closer. “Carl’s been shot. He’s at our farm not far from here.” She pats the horses rump. “Come on.”

         Despite the general protesting around her, Lori climbs onto the horse and the two take off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         When they arrive at Hershel’s farm, it’s to find that Shane and Otis have already left to get medical supplies, and Rick and Lori are holed up in a bedroom with Carl. Maggie leads everyone inside to wait.

         Daryl is thankful that he manages to keep from doing or saying something embarrassing to her and Beth. It’s difficult, but the threat of losing Sofia if he doesn’t do something now helps. He needs to check the barn. If she’s not there then he needs to keep an eye on it to make sure she never does get in. But he can’t do it alone.

         “C’mon, sugar tits, I’m sure there’s enough hay here to roll ‘round in,” Merle leers at Andrea, who rolls her eyes and pushes past him.

         Daryl feels bad cutting her off. Not bad enough to not do it, but still. “Wait. I need yer help. Merle’s too.”

         Andrea arches an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well that’s too bad,” she scoffs, trying to step around him.

         “It’s to look fer Sofia. This is the direction she was headed in, an’ y’all saw how many places there are to hide ‘round here,” Daryl says, keeping his voice low. If Hershel or his family overheard, it wouldn’t go well.

         Merle frowns. “An’ you think she’s here somewhere? Wouldn’t the farmer or Bo-Peep over there have noticed?”

         “Probably not. There’s too much land here for them to see everythin’,” Daryl replies. “I wanna check the barn ‘specially. But there’s also a chicken coop and I thought I saw ‘nother smaller barn too or whatever.”

         Andrea sighs. “Yeah, okay. Fine, I’ll help. As long as dickhead here—” she glares pointedly at Merle, “—keeps away from me.”

         “Fine. Got nothin’ better to do anyway,” Merle agrees with a shrug. “Buncha prudes ‘round here apparently.”

         “C’mon then.” Daryl turns and leads them out of the house.

         After snagging a couple of flashlights, Andrea quickly heads off in one direction, and Merle lumbers off in the other.

         Daryl peers up at the house, but it doesn’t look like anyone noticed anything. Sometimes it was good to be ignored. Nodding to himself, he prowls though the dark towards the large, old barn. If he remembers correctly, there should be a second entrance to the thing near the side.

         Glad to see his memory is correct, Daryl hurries up the ladder to the hayloft. Inside he clicks on the flashlight. The smell is fucking awful. “ _Sofia!_ ” he calls softly. He inches to the edge of the hayloft and shines the flashlight down. “It’s Daryl. Yer mama is outside!”

         The walkers below snarl and reach up at him, gnarled fingers clawing at the empty air. They shuffle towards the light, banging the ladder under Daryl’s feet.

         Daryl slowly moves the beam of light over the walkers. “Sofia?” he tries again. He knocks into a small bale of hay as he creeps around the loft and it topples over onto a walker. “ _Shit_. Sofia, if yer in here, answer me!”

         The walkers follow the light as he goes. Daryl doesn’t recognize any of the faces, thankfully. Though they swarm and trip over one another, he’s able to keep track enough to see that Sofia isn’t among them. Daryl allows himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

         He leaves the loft, forgoing the ladder to just hop down and peer around back. There’s no signs of anyone and anything being back there. But that doesn’t mean the danger has passed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl is out in the yard, watching the treeline by the barn, when Shane returns without Otis. He continues to stand guard when everyone else goes to sleep. Daryl grips his crossbow and bites his bottom lip. Crickets chirp and an owl hoots somewhere in the distance. The moon creeps across the sky.

         “What’re you doin’ out here, little brother?”

         Daryl barely spares Merle a glance. “Watchin’.”

         Merle comes to a stop beside him and squints into the night. “Hm.” He rocks on his feet for a moment. “Go on inside. I’ll take it from here.”

         “What?” Daryl’s brows shoot up.

         “You’re no good to anyone dead on your feet.” Merl snickers a little at his own joke. But he quickly sobers again. “Get goin’ an' sleep. I’ll keep an eye out for the girl.”

         Daryl stares at his brother for a few moments before nodding.

         Merle claps a hand on his shoulder, then shoos him away. “If you don’t sleep, I’ll kick your ass in the mornin’.”

         Daryl roles his eyes, but goes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         After the funeral for Otis, and Shane’s bullshit eulogy, Daryl knows he ought to go out looking for Sofia properly. But he needs someone to keep an eye on the barn.

         Daryl spots Andrea sulking after giving up her gun. “Hey, can you keep an eye on that barn while I’m gone?” he asks.

         Andrea looks at him, then the barn, then back to Daryl. “Thought you said she wasn’t there?”

         “I did. She ain’t. But that don’t mean she won’t show up lookin’ fer a safe place,” Daryl replies. Andrea may not be his favorite person, but she has a decent eye. He tells her as much. “You might see her ‘fore she reaches the barn.”

         Preening a little, Andrea gives in. “Okay. But only because everyone else is busy.”

         Right. Daryl starts for the pasture with the horses when he recalls something.

_“Her name’s Nelly. For Nervous Nelly.” Hershel says as he cleans Daryl’s wounds. “Coulda told you as much if you’d asked before runnin’ off.”_

         Though Daryl doesn’t plan on going towards the ravine, he does not want to chance getting thrown off the horse again. Once was enough, thank you very much. He spots Hershel and Rick talking on the porch of the farm house.

         Rick spots him first. “Hey. You know you don’t have to look for Sofia on your own, right?”

         “It’s easier to. Don’t have to worry none that one of you’ll trip or some shit while ‘m trackin’,” Daryl replies, only partially joking. He turns his attention on to Hershel. “Can I borrow a horse? It’ll be faster than goin’ on foot.”

         Hershel considers him a moment before nodding. “That’s a good idea.” He looks around before waving someone over. “Jimmy, show Daryl here to the horses!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl is glad he’d gone to Hershel. The horse he rode now, Cisco Jo, was much easier to control and didn’t freak out over every little noise. He only wishes he could take his time to really appreciate the forest around him. Instead, Daryl drives the horse into a canter, heading for the abandoned house he recalled from before.

         The decrepit old house is surprisingly easy to find. Bringing Jo to a stop, Daryl hops down and tethers him to a tree. Hopefully no walkers show up while he checks the place out. He pats the horse’s flank and cautiously approaches the house.

         Daryl toes open the front door, hands occupied by his crossbow. “Sofia?” He coughs as dust invades his lungs. Daryl pads quietly through the hall and the living room. Stepping over some broken chairs, he enters the kitchen.

         Before he can check the pantry, he spots footprints in the grime on the floor. Small footprints. _Sofia must’ve been here recently_ , Daryl thought. He couldn’t help but feel hopeful at that. If she was here recently enough she might be near by.

         Daryl looks into the pantry, just in case, finding nothing—as he had expected. He leaves the house and makes a quick circle of the area. A few broken twigs are all he needs to know which direction Sofia had gone in. Daryl unties Jo and swings himself up onto the horse’s back. “Let’s go.”

         Cisco Jo nickers and starts off at a trot.

         “Sofia!” Daryl calls, whipping his head from side to side as he rides. He might have a neck ache later but it’ll be worth it if he can find the girl alive. Something in the distance catches his eye.

         Jo jumps gracefully over a large log and turns as Daryl directs.

         Daryl slows him and jumps down. Just ahead is a strangely shaped bunch of sticks. Like a poorly made lean-to. Trying not to let hope override his common sense, Daryl slips silently around to the side of the makeshift shelter. He spots a flash of blue inside. “Sofia?”

         “Mr. Daryl?”

         The absolute relief that floods Daryl as Sofia scrambles out into the open is almost enough to make him tear up. Before he can embarrass himself though, Sofia is running at him.

         “ _Mr. Daryl!_ ” Sofia wails, colliding with him. She clutches at his waist and buries her face in his stomach. “You found me!”

         Daryl awkwardly pats her shoulder. “’Course. Couldn’t leave ya out here. Everyone’s been lookin’ fer ya.”

         Sofia looks up at that. “Where’s mamma? Is she out here?” She sniffs but doesn’t bother to let go to wipe her face.

         “Nah, she’s back at the farm,” Daryl replies. “I’ll take ya to her. You gotta let go though.”

         Reluctantly, Sofia does so. However she grabs his hand instead.

         Daryl doesn’t mind. He leads her over to Cisco Jo and lifts her onto his back. “Just hold on tight. Ya ever ride a horse ‘fore?” Daryl asks as he climbs up behind her and takes the reins.

         “Nuh-uh.” Sofia shakes her head, strawberry-blonde bob bouncing away. “But I like ‘em.”

         “Try to move with ‘im, okay? But I’ve gotcha, so don’t worry too much ‘bout it,” Daryl says. He flicks the reins and Jo starts to walk. After a little bit, Daryl eases him into a trot, then eventually into a full gallop.

         “Mamma’s gonna be mad at me,” Sofia mumbles as they ride through the woods.

         “She won’t. She’ll be so happy to see ya she won’t remember to be.” Daryl allows himself to smile. Sofia is alive and Carol won’t have to suffer. “Just don’t run off no more, ya hear?”

         Sofia looks over her shoulder at him, eyes wide. “I won’t! Never again,” she promises.

         Daryl grunts and nods. “Good.”

 

         They leave the trees behind and approach the farm. Daryl can see everyone, or nearly everyone, outside. A car pulls up before them and he can see Glenn and Maggie get out with supplies. He smirks a little.

         Daryl guides Jo up the dirt road and waves.

         Jacqui spots him first and starts getting the attention of the others.

         Bringing the horse to a stop, Daryl dismounts and helps Sofia down.

         “Mamma!” Sofia shouts, taking off.

         Daryl trails after her, watching a Carol pushes through the others.

         “Sofia!” Carol cries, embracing her daughter. She pets her hair, cups her face, and hugs her again. “Oh my god, _Sofia!_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Or not, maybe people were expecting that. If it feels like things are moving quickly, it's because they are. Daryl knowing how certain things could play out means he wouldn't make the same mistake twice if he can help it. But that doesn't mean other problems won't pop up eventually. ;)


	5. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I want to thank everyone for all the kudos and comments! I wasn't expecting this to get as much attention as it is and I'm very grateful. :)

  _Blood. Everywhere Daryl looks, blood is all he sees. Except for the eyes. Sixteen. White and bloodshot._

_Staring._

_Rasping snarls and the stench of death overwhelm him. And_ _then_ _the screams start. Squelches and the sound of something wet being torn apart thunder against his eardrums._

_Blood._

_Eyes._

_Screams._

_Yellowed teeth flash into Daryl’s vision. The screaming never stops._

_“You should be dead.”_

_The eyes are back. Accusing._

_“You should be dead!”_

 

 Daryl bolts up, gasping. A cold sweat clings to his brow and trickles down the back of his neck. He rubs his hands over his face and looks over at Merle’s vacant side of their tent. Daryl hopes he hadn’t been doing anything embarrassing in his sleep. Merle had never been very kind about nightmares.

 Nightmares. Daryl had hoped they would go away now that he was fixing things. And they had. But clearly not for long. At least they weren’t every night anymore. Maybe. Daryl didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with the nightly horrors again.

 Once he felt calm enough, Daryl crawled from the tent.

 Everyone was already pretty busy. Carol and Sofia, Jacqui, and Amy were all chatting together while working on chores. Lori stops to talk with Carol before heading into the farmhouse. Shane and Rick are arguing over something by the cars. Given that Glenn is conspicuously missing, Daryl can only assume he’s with Maggie.

 “Daryl,” Carol calls when she notices him.

 Daryl wanders over, snatching up a piece of jerky on the way. He gives a start when Carol stands and pulls him into a hug.

 “I didn’t get to thank you properly before,” she says softly. “Thank you so much, Pookie.”

 The nickname makes him grumble in happy embarrassment. He may have missed it, but that didn’t mean he had to admit it. Not that Carol would know anyway. “’S nothin’.”

 Carol clucks her tongue and wacks his arm playfully. “It’s not nothing. You found my little girl and brought her back to me. It’s _everything_.” She smiles. “You’re a good man, Daryl Dixon. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

 Daryl ducks his head and shrugs. He’s actually grateful when Merle strides over, carrying buckets full of what he guesses to be venison.

 “This should be enough for tonight,” Merle says, plopping the buckets down. “Y’all know how to cook that or should I get Darlina to?”

 “We’ll handle it,” Carol replies. “Thanks.”

 Sophia peers curiously at the meat. “What is it?”

 “Deer,” Merle replies smugly. “Got it in one shot.”

 Face falling, Sophia scoots back. “Oh.”

 “What’s the matter, girlie? You’ve had deer b‘fore. Just ain’t cooked it yet.”

 “I know. But still,” Sophia mutters sadly.

 “Just don’t think ‘bout it too hard then.” Merle gently pats her head and takes the buckets away.

 Daryl never imagined the words ‘Merle’ and ‘gentle’ could be put in the same sentence. Even in his thoughts. _There’s a first time fer everythin’_ , he supposes. Still, it’s weird as hell.

 

 

 That night everyone joins the Greene family in their home for dinner. Daryl wishes he could have missed it again because it’s awkward. Really awkward. Even Merle doesn’t say anything. As it is, the two brothers sit off to the side, not bothering with either table.

 “So, um,” Glenn starts, clearly not reading the mood, “anyone know how to play guitar? Daryl found one earlier...”

 “Otis did,” Patricia says, voice soft and sad.

 Merle snorts quietly and Daryl elbows him in the side.

 Sneaking glances at everyone, Daryl wonders if they’ll be able to get to the point of being comfortable together again. He knows once Carl is fully healed, Hershel will want them to go. And now with Sofia safe, the amount of time they have to get on his good side is severely shortened. But Daryl doesn’t want to give up what they had with Hershel, Maggie, and Beth. And knowing that a herd is eventually going to destroy the place… Well, he wouldn’t be able to leave without putting up a fight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 Carl, though not completely healed, is up and walking the next day. Daryl is glad, of course. He just wishes it didn’t mean that he had to come up with a plan of action even faster.

 “Can you teach us how to shoot?” Beth asks Shane, using her giant eyes to her advantage to try and plead with him. Her puppy-dog eyes are the worst, in that they’re the best.

 “I wanna learn too,” Carl butts in. He’s practically bouncing with excitement.

 Lori, having overheard, storms over. “Absolutely not!”

 Carl frowns. “Why not?”

 “Actually, I think he should learn,” Rick says. He stands his ground with his hands on his hips despite Lori’s furious glare.

 “He just recovered from getting shot and you want him to have a gun?” Lori snaps.

 Rick sighs. “Better he learn how to use them properly, than be afraid of them forever.” His tone is calm and reasonable. Everything Lori is not and would never be.

 Daryl nods his agreement, moving to stand by Rick. It’s so good to be there again, where he belongs. The only thing that would make it better would be if Daryl could just let Rick do his thing and lead. But he can’t this time—not yet.

 Lori inhales sharply through her nose. “Fine. Go ahead,” she tells Carl. “But you do everything Shane tells you. If I hear you’re goofing off or not listening, the lessons are done.”

 “Yes, mom,” Carl agrees hastily. He leaves with Shane, Beth, Patricia, and Andrea.

 

 Daryl ends up spending most of his time standing or pacing out in the fields. Things are happening fast and he’s not if he knows how to deal with it. If he didn’t have to worry about Hershel kicking them out early, he’d have time to take a breath and think. Plan. But that’s not an option. He can’t exactly reveal the existence of the walkers in the barn. He’d have no way of explaining himself because 1) if he didn’t go into the barn he’d have no way of knowing and 2) if he says he went into the barn, no-one would trust him because he kept their existence a secret.

 Biting his nails, Daryl feels panic creeping over him. He wishes he could just tell Rick everything. But Rick wouldn’t believe him. Not yet anyway, they didn’t have that level of trust right now. Not only that, it would just stress him out more when he’s about to be dealing with Lori’s pregnancy and Shane’s betrayal.

 But maybe there is someone he can tell.

 Daryl looks over to where Carol is sitting in the shade of a tree with Sophia and her girlfriends. She might believe him. And if she did, she could help. Daryl knew Carol was smart as a whip, and he had no doubts about her planning abilities.

 And if she doesn’t believe him? Daryl groans in annoyance. She’d probably baby him and try and convince him to sleep more or some shit, worried he’d gotten heatstroke or whatever. But given his options… Carol is the safest bet right now.

 Daryl approaches the small group. “Carol, can we, uh, talk?”

 Carol smiles up at him. “Of course.” She stands and wipes her hands on her jeans. “Sophia, stay here, okay?”

 “Yes, mamma.” Sophia smiles sweetly at them.

 Daryl leads Carol away, but stays within sight of her daughter. And then he loses his nerve. _God this is stupid_ , he thinks, biting his thumbnail again.

 “Daryl? What is it?” Carol asks gently. Her brows are furrowed in concern.

 Frustration wells inside him. Daryl shakes his head. “I don’t know how to talk ‘bout it.” He sighs. “But yer the only one I _can_ talk to ‘bout it.”

 Carol pats his arm and sits in the grass. “Sit. It might be easier that way.”

 “Mhm.” Daryl sits beside her and plucks at a dandelion. “Yer gonna think ‘m crazy.”

 “Daryl, I believed your story about the chupacabra. Not only that, the _dead_ are _walking_. I’m sure I’ll believe whatever it is,” Carol assures him with a laugh. She plucks a dandelion of her own. “I promise, whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”

 Daryl figures the best way to go about this is to just get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. “’M not the same Daryl as before. I...I’m from the future.” And doesn’t that just sound ridiculous.

 “I’m sorry?” Carol frowns in confusion.

 “Told ya it sounds crazy,” Daryl huffs. “I don’t know how to explain it properly. Just… My body is from this time but my brain or whatever is from almost three years in the future.” He growls at himself. “’M not good with science crap. Just, in the future I ran into some scientist and he sent me back. To here.” Daryl tugs at a strand of lengthening hair. “I weren’t sure it’d work, but it did.”

 Carol nods slowly. Her expression only hints at mild confusion and a lot of surprise. “I want to believe you. I _do_ believe you, but…it’d be easier to… Do you have proof?”

 Well, at least she wasn’t laughing at him. That’s a plus, Daryl supposes. But what can he do to prove what he’s saying? Looking around, he spots Rick and Lori talking far off by the fences. That’s right. “Lori’s pregnant.”

 “What?”

 “Lori’s pregnant. It’s Shane’s but she’s gonna tell Rick it’s his,” Daryl tells her. He leans closer. “Today, everyone’ll find out that that barn—” he points at it, “—is full of walkers. Hershel’s been keepin’ ‘em in there ‘cause it’s his family.”

 Carol looks at the barn, then back at Daryl with wide eyes. “Why would he keep them in there?”

 “I said it’s his family. He thinks they can be cured. But when Shane opens those doors and shoots ‘em all he realizes they’re monsters.” Daryl runs his fingers through his shaggy hair. “It’s gonna destroy ‘im. But it has to happen.”

 Silence rests between them as Carol digests the information. A tiny yellow butterfly flits over the field, followed by a warm and gentle breeze that bends the grass. The hazy afternoon sun glows in front of them, heading for the trees.

 “Why?” Carol asks eventually.

 Daryl’s brows crinkle. “Why what?”

 “Why did you come back here? You must have had a reason?” Carol tilts her head as she looks at him.

 “I can’t talk ‘bout it. Not…not yet anyways.” Flashes of memory and nightmare try to take over his thoughts. Daryl pushes them down.

 Luckily, Carol seems to get it. “So then, a different ‘why’. Why did you need to tell me this?”

 Daryl looks down at the dirt. “’Cause I don’t know how to...” he waves his hand vaguely. “People are gonna die. But it can be avoided. I just don’t know how to do it on my own.”

 “Oh, Pookie,” Carol coos, rubbing his back in sympathy. “You don’t have to do it on your own. Why not tell Rick too, hm?”

 “Can’t,” is Daryl’s response. He swallows. “He’s got too much to deal with right now. An’ I don’t know if he’d believe me. The things I’d have to tell ‘im to prove it...”

 “Like?” Carol prompts, tone gentle.

 Daryl doesn’t know much about time travel and what one should and shouldn’t share with people from the past. And honestly at this point he doesn’t care. “Shane tries to kill Rick. Then Rick kills _him_. The farm’ll be attacked by a herd and burn.”

 Carol opens and closes her mouth a few times. She shakes her head and pulls her legs up against her chest. “That’s...”

 “Exactly.” Daryl twirls the dandelion in his fingers.

 “Wait! Is this time travel thing how you knew where to find Sophia?” Carol asks, turning to face him properly.

 Daryl winces and nods. “Sort of. Didn’t find her in time b’fore, though. She’d been in the barn.” He avoids looking at her. “I didn’t know until we opened those doors.”

 Carol claps a hand over her mouth and looks back at the tree where Sophia sits with Amy and Jacqui. After a moment she relaxes again. Sophia is safe in this time after all. “What else? What else should I know?”

 “What I told ya already is probably best fer now.” Daryl stands and crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his armpits. “That’s the biggest problem we have to deal with at the moment.”

 Carol gets to her feet as well. “Then that’s what we’ll focus on. How to get us all out of here without Rick or Shane killing each other.”

 Daryl snorts. “That’ll be a miracle. Especially after tonight. And tomorrow.”

 “That soon?” Carol’s brows shoot up her forehead.

 “Yeah.” Daryl looks over to where Rick and Carl are talking. “We also have to keep an eye on Carl.”

 “Carl? Why? Don’t tell me he dies too?” Carol asks in horror.

 “Nah. He don’t die,” Daryl replied. _Not here_. “But he leads a walker back by mistake. It gets Dale.”

 Carol nods. She frowns, determined. “Thank you for telling me, Daryl. I know it was difficult. But you were right. This is too much for one person to handle.” She starts to head back to the tree, then stops and turns back. “You should tell Rick. Maybe not right now, but eventually.”

 “I will.”

 


	6. Saved and Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a bit longer. Enjoy!

         The next day goes much as it did before. From the ‘revelation’ about the walkers in the barn—Carol glances at Daryl—to Hershel telling them they have until the end of the week to leave, and finally to Hershel’s realization of what’s really going on in the world. Daryl feels like he’s watching everything from a distance, despite being right in the middle of it.

         As the group finishes burying the bodies, Carol approaches him. “I believed you before but, seeing what you said would happen, happen…” She shakes her head slowly. “What next? What do we do?”

         “I know we gotta keep an eye on Carl, like I said b‘fore,” Daryl replies. He sees Rick and Glenn heading for the cars. “Shit, I almost forgot!”

         Carol glances over at them. “Don’t tell me—”

         “Nah. They’re fine. Just, they come across some guy in town and it sets off a whole lotta shit.” Daryl licks his lips and frowns at the ground. “It’s gonna sound bad, but we gotta kill ‘im. When they bring ‘im back, we have to. Otherwise Shane’ll let ‘im loose.”

         Carol nods. “Then we’ll do it. If that’s how to stop further damage, it’s worth it.” She smiles ruefully at him. “Never thought I’d be willing to murder someone before.”

         Daryl feels pride well up in his chest. He had hoped that Carol would find her strength again without the loss of her daughter. “Dale won’t like it,” Daryl says. “I understand why, but we can’t be soft like last time.”

 

         “Rick,” Daryl says, approaching Rick after everyone else leaves, the discussion of Randall’s fate over for the night.

         Rick rubs his forehead. “Yeah?”

         “We have to get rid of Randall. I don’t care how, though maybe killin’ ‘im is best.” Daryl shifts on his feet. He doesn’t like questioning Rick, never has. “Sittin’ here debatin’ shit ain’t gonna solve nothin’.”

         Rick looks about to protest, but then sighs. “We’re droppin’ him off tomorrow. That was what was decided.”

         Daryl bites his lip to keep from growling in frustration. He knows they won’t drop Randall off tomorrow. For whatever reason they bring him back. But he can’t just tell Rick to make sure they actually do what he says he’s going to do—it’d sound like a threat.

         Rick seems to sense his mood, though he clearly doesn’t know what’s really causing it. He places his hands on Daryl’s shoulders and ducks his head to look him in the eyes. “Daryl, things’ll work out. We won’t let him cause any problems here. And if he does tell his people about us, I know we can defend this place.”

_You don’t understand_ , is what Daryl wants to say. But he doesn’t, can’t. However, there might be one thing he can do. “Okay.” Daryl shifts closer. “But you gotta be careful ‘round Shane. He ain’t right in the head no more. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

         Rick frowns a little.

         “Look, I’m not sayin’ he’s gonna shoot the place up, but it’d be a good idea to talk to ‘im. You were a sheriff, I’m sure ya know how to talk to people like that,” Daryl insists. He’s never been good with words, but he hopes Rick gets what he’s saying.

         After a moment, Rick nods. “Thank you, Daryl. For expressing your concerns.” He pats Daryl’s arm and leaves the house.

         Had Daryl not known Rick as well as he did, he would have taken that as a dismissal. But the look in Rick’s eyes… His warning had been heard, and Daryl knew Rick would take it seriously. Daryl never had understood Rick’s trust in him, but he was glad for it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “Daryl’s comin’ with us today,” Rick says as he and Shane get Randall in the car.

         Shane’s lips curls in annoyance. “Why would we take him? You really think we need three people to drop this asshole off somewhere?” He slams the trunk down. “Not only that, it’s Daryl. The only thing he’s good for is huntin’.”

         “If yer gonna talk ‘bout someone behind their back, you should do it quieter,” Daryl growls, leading his bike over to them.

         “I would if I cared,” Shane retorts.

         Rick steps into Shane’s personal space. “Daryl is comin’ along, whether you like it or not. Havin’ an extra person along if we can afford it—which we can, this farm is safe—is only common sense.”

         Shane glares at them before getting into the car.

         “Are you sure you want to come along?” Rick looks at Daryl with a concerned frown. “I know Shane isn’t your favorite person.”

         “Pfft, ‘m fine. Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle,” Daryl assures him. He swings a leg over his bike and starts it up. “Let’s go.”

 

 

         Daryl lets himself drift behind Rick’s car, only occasionally speeding up to ride alongside them or race ahead. With Carol back at the farm keeping an eye on things, he feels as though a bit of the weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

         They arrived in good time at the 18 mile mark—well, a little past it—having only stopped once for Rick to threaten Shane (that wasn’t what Daryl had meant when he’d told Rick to talk to him). Rick and Shane take care of two walkers as they make their way into the public works station, Daryl watching their backs.

         “They weren’t bitten,” Shane comments, gesturing at the uniformed corpses.

         Rick pauses siphoning some gas from a truck and examines at them. “They have scratches though.”

         “Hm,” Shane grunts noncommittally.

         Randall is begging and pleading as Daryl drags him over from the car. “Shut up.” He drops him onto the pavement and pulls out his knife.

         “Wait! Wait, please!” Randall tries to wiggle away. “I went to school with Maggie for God’s sake!”

         Rick and Shane exchange a look, and then Shane pulls out his gun and prepares to shoot. He lets out a shout as Rick tackles him.

         “We can’t just shoot him!” Rick snaps. “We need to think this through!”

         Shane pushes Rick away. “What, so the little shit can bring his people to the farm? Let me tell you something: you’re putting Lori and Carl in danger. I don’t think you can keep them safe anymore.”

         Daryl swears as Rick and Shane start throwing punches. “Stop it!” He kicks Randall hard to keep him down and rushes over to try and break things up.

         Shane knocks a motorcycle onto Rick and reaches for his gun again.

         “I said stop!” Daryl yells, aiming his crossbow at Shane. “Don’t make me kill you.”

         Rick struggles out from under the bike and gets to his feet, panting hard and glaring daggers at Shane. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

         Shane sneers. He takes a step forward, hesitates, and then turns, holstering his gun. Shane rubs his hands over his shaved head and makes a noise of irritation.

         “If you have a problem with me you should say it,” Rick demands, jabbing a finger towards him in emphasis. “Fuckin’ settle whatever this is like adults.”

         Daryl narrows his eyes at Shane, tracking him as the other man paces. One wrong move and he will happily shoot him. Multiple times for good measure.

         “You know what the problem is, Rick,” Shane says, turning. He fixes him with a cold, hard look. “It’s you. You can’t do the things that need to be done!”

         Rick stares back at Shane, assessing. He flicks his eyes to Daryl and gives a nearly imperceptible nod.

         And Daryl knows exactly what he wants him to do. He swings his crossbow around and shoots. The bolt hits Randall square between the eyes. As he goes to retrieve it, he hears Rick speak.

         “I can do exactly what needs to be done. Just because I actually think before I act does _not_ mean I won’t do what’s necessary.”

         There’s that commanding tone Daryl knows so well. The one that brooks no argument and allows for no challenges of authority. He smirks, cleans off the bolt, and slings the crossbow back over his shoulder.

         “Our job is done here,” Rick says, giving Shane a final look before heading for the car, followed closely by Daryl.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “You missed a lot of excitement while you were gone yesterday,” Carol says, sitting next to Daryl as he cleans his crossbow in the sun. “Like you said, Dale didn’t like what happened. But, I think he’s resigned himself to that becoming a regular occurrence.” She stretches and sighs. “Poor Beth is finally recovering, though. Didn’t expect her to try and kill herself.”

         Daryl’s head snaps up. “She what!?”

         Carol blinked. “You didn’t know that?”

         “I… I was out last time. I never heard—is she okay?” Daryl asks, looking back at the house. Beth is sitting on the porch talking with Sophia.

         “Yes, she’s fine as far as I can tell. Andrea told us she wouldn’t try again,” Carol replies. She places a hand on Daryl’s arm. “I assume you two were close, last time?”

         Daryl shrugs. “She was like a little sister to me. Annoyin’, but nice to have ‘round too sometimes.” The echo of a gunshot and blood blooming from the back of Beth’s head make Daryl squeeze his eyes shut. “I lost her… An’ when I found her, she got killed.”

         Carol pets his hair. “We won’t let that happen this time, Pookie. I know we can stop it.”

         Before Daryl can respond, movement catches his attention. He perks up and sees a familiar brown hat by his motorcycle. “Crap!”

         “What?”

         Daryl leaps to his feet and charges down the hill towards the vehicles. “Don’t even think ‘bout it!” he snarls.

         Carl looks up, eyes wide, and he quickly backs away from Daryl’s bike. “I didn’t do anything!” he protests, holding his hands up. “See?”

         Shaking his head, Daryl thrusts his hand out, palm up. “Give it.”

         “I was just gonna practice,” Carl grumbles, taking Daryl’s gun from his back pocket and handing it over. He glares up at him. “I thought _you’d_ understand that. Mom says you’re a trash redneck, so you probably always had a gun.”

         “Get back to the house.”

         “But—” Whatever Carl was going to say was cut off as Daryl grabs the back of his shirt and starts marching him away from the bike. “Let go! I can walk you stupid hick!”

         Daryl pushes him forward. “Yeah? Go on then!” Barely containing his anger, he crosses his arms and stares the brat down.

         Carl glares balefully at him, but does as he’s told.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         They find a mutilated cow the next day. A lone walker is wandering the field and is quickly dealt with. Daryl wonders if it’s the same one that would have followed Carl, or if it’s part of the larger herd that’s coming. He can only be grateful Dale hadn’t been outside this time.

         Daryl doesn’t have to wait long for his suspicions to be confirmed.

         Merle drops his gun by his and Daryl’s tent and faces the group. “Fuckin’ walkers are takin’ all the good prey out there.” He spits onto the ground. “Looks like more of ‘em than were wandering ‘round here yesterday.”

         “More as in what? A herd?” Dale asks, frowning.

         “We’d better hope not,” T-Dog says. “I don’t think this place will hold up against one.”

         Merle snorts. “I don’t know. I didn’t stop to fuckin’ count ‘em!”

         Rick passes a hand over his mouth. “If it is a herd then we should start building reinforcements.” He turns to Hershel who stands on the porch listening in. “We could build those fences up. Is there any metal around here we could use?”

         Hershel shakes his head. “Not enough for that.”

         “We could just leave?” Andrea suggests, hands on her hips. “Maybe there’s a safer place out there.”

         “I’m not leavin’ my home,” Hershel says sternly. “We’ve got a lot of wood. With what metal is available, you can use it to support some places or make up for what the wood won’t cover.”

         Rick nods. “Good. Okay. From now on we aren’t leavin’ the fenced area. If we move quick, we might be able to get this place defended by tonight.” He sets everyone jobs and gets them to work.

 

 

         It’s not enough. The herd spills through the trees before they even have half the fences built up and all hell breaks loose.

         “Carl! Where’s Carl?” Lori’s frantic voice carries from inside. She rushes out the front door. “ _Carl!_ ”

         Most of the group swarms the cars, grabbing whatever guns they can get on the way. Daryl hops onto his bike and leads them all towards the burning barn. In the distance Rick and Carl climb down from the RV that’s quickly overrun.

         Merle speeds by in one of the trucks. “Take that fuckers!” he shouts gleefully, leaning out of the window and firing wildly into the herd.

         T-Dog, Lori, and Beth pass him not much later. They are followed eventually by Glenn and Maggie.

         Daryl turns and speeds back in the direction of the house. He remembers that some of the others had trouble getting out last time and he’ll be damned if he lets anyone get left behind. As he makes his way back, he spots Rick driving off with Hershel.

         Familiar screams pierce the night.

         “Daryl!” Carol shrieks, fending off walkers from herself and Sophia. But there’s too many. Spotting an opening, she grabs her daughter’s hand and runs to him.

         It’s difficult, but Daryl manages to get them both onto his bike. Luckily the ride won’t be a long one and they’ll be able to regroup soon.

         “Thank you,” Carol gasps over Sophia’s crying.

         Time has run out, and he can only hope everyone else made it. Daryl tears off down the road, leaving the burning farm behind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         On the highway, they realize Shane and Andrea are missing. Daryl wonders if they died or if they both got out. _If they did get out, will they_ both _join the Governor?_ He wants to believe they won’t. Andrea would want to get back to Amy at least. Shane on the other hand…

         “Should we go back?” Jacqui asks.

         “There’s no way to find them. Not with all those walkers around,” Rick replies. He sighs. “We’ll just have to keep going.”

 

         Both Hershel’s SUV and the RV run out of gas on their way down a long country road.

         “We’ll make camp here. We have enough supplies for the night. Tomorrow we’ll go look for gas,” Rick tells them. There’s a ripple of discontent throughout the group. “Look, we found each other. No-one’s leaving to look on their own. Not when someone could get stranded without a car.”

         “A little late for that, Sheriff,” Merle snorts.

         “There’s walkers everywhere,” Glenn points out. “It’s not safe here.”

         Rick shakes his head. “I know there’s someplace out there for us. We just have to find it.”

         “Bound to be somethin’,” Daryl agrees. He sees a fraction of tension leave Rick’s shoulders.

 

         Daryl stares into the campfire, the small flame flickering and snapping. He knows that after winter they’ll be back at the prison, with everything that entails. _Should we even go?_ Daryl wonders, biting at his thumbnail. His eyes dart to Lori where she’s holding Carl. They don’t have much choice. He doesn’t know anywhere closer that would work.

         Carol runs her fingers through Sophia’s hair. The girl is sleeping with her head on Carol’s lap. Shifting carefully, she leans a little closer to Daryl. “Daryl, I don’t know what happened _before_ but… Rick seems different. Dangerous maybe,” she whispers.

         “Nah,” Daryl replies. “Rick’s done alright by me. Both times.”

         “Are you sure?” Carol asks.

         Daryl bobs his head in a nod. “Rick’s a good man. He’ll get through it.” He tosses a stick into the fire.

         “I guess,” Carol sighs. “You haven’t been wrong yet.”

         “Mhm,” Daryl grunts.

         Branches snap in the distance. The group tenses.

         “Rick, maybe we should look into it,” Amy says. “Maybe it’s...”

         “Could be anythin’.” Merle rolls his eyes. “Probably a raccoon or somethin’. Don’t y’all get your panties in a twist.”

         T-Dog tightens his grip on his gun. “We should leave.”

         Rick turns to them. “The last thing we need is for everyone to be runnin’ off in the dark. No-one is goin’ anywhere.”

         Merle shrugs and leans back against the stone wall. “Whatever you say, Officer Friendly.”

         Rick bristles. “I’m keepin’ this group together, alive. I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to be in charge. But I have to be.”

         Carl flinches and curls into Lori’s arms.

         “I _wish_ we could go back and look for them. We can’t. It’s too risky and the chances that they’re alive are slim,” Rick says. He frowns at them all. “Maybe you’d be better off without me. But I just know there’s somewhere out there for us.”

         No-one says anything.

         Rick stomps closer. “If you’re staying, this isn’t a democracy anymore.” He turns his back on them again.

         Daryl watches Rick stand guard and feels an ache in his chest. Though logically Daryl knows _this_ Rick hasn’t gone through this before, he feels bad that he had to deal with all this. If Daryl could spare him any of the misfortune to come, he would do anything. And he’s going to try.


	7. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time. Since we're never really shown or told what happens during this time in the show, I felt like adding a few scenes about it here.

         Daryl drops off the squirrels he caught with Jacqui and Amy, then goes to sit by the window of the newest house they’ve found. It’s too cold even for him to be outside long. How long they’ll be out here, Daryl isn’t sure. He knows the direction of the prison and has been trying to lead them there quicker. But some people can’t—or won’t—go any faster.

         As Dale is passing through the living room, he pauses. “Penny for your thoughts, son?” he asks. “You seem troubled.”

         “Nothin’ much,” Daryl replies. He chews on the inside of his cheek and lightly taps the window.

         “Now see, I doubt that.” Dale walks over and leans against a wall. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk, but there _are_ people here you can talk to. If you want.”

         Daryl looks up at him.

         “Talkin’ ‘bout feelings is for pussies,” Merle scoffs. He turns a reproachful eye on Daryl. “I ain’t raised no pussy. Right, little brother?”

         Dale nearly jumps. He clearly hadn’t heard the older Dixon approaching. “Hardly,” he says. “Talking about your feelings is incredibly healthy. Freeing.”

         “Is that so?” Merle swaggers over. Despite being about the same height, Merle manages to be intimidating. “Well I’m _feelin’_ annoyed right now. So why dontchu beat it?”

         Sparing Daryl a sympathetic look, Dale leaves the room.

         Daryl returns his gaze back out the window when Merle looms over him. “Lemme guess, no booze?”

         Merle grunts. “Either the jackasses never had none or someone got here ‘fore we did.”

         “Maybe it’s fer the best,” Daryl says. He looks at his brother. “People will like ya better when yer sober.”

         “What the fuck do I care if they like me?” Merle kicks the chair Daryl’s sitting on. “You think I give a damn?”

         Daryl doesn’t bother answering that because they both know the answer. “What’s the point of bein’ drunk or high fer ya? It’s gonna get ya killed.” He hesitates. “Dad ain’t ‘round no more. You don’t need those things.”

         For a second Daryl thinks Merle’s about to punch him. His expression is dark, thunderous. Instead, he curls his lip back in a snarl and turns on his heel, storming from the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl yanks his knife out of the walker’s head, letting it drop to the floor of the library. The brick building wasn’t very big and so Rick had insisted they check it out. See if it was worth staying in for the night.

         “I think that’s the last of them,” Rick says, checking down the final aisle of books.

         “Yep,” Daryl agrees, kicking the walker away from the bookshelves. He steps over it and follows Rick out of the room.

         Things are silent for a few moments. Then Rick speaks again. “I wanted to thank you for havin’ my back through all this.” He looks back over his shoulder at Daryl.

         Daryl gives a barely there smile. “’Course.”

         Rick stops on the stairs leading up to the main part of the library. “Not that I want you to go, but, why are you still here?” He grimaces a little. “That didn’t sound right. You and Merle could make it on your own, but you chose to stick around. Why?”

         “Maybe we could,” Daryl says as he leans against the stairwell wall, “but I wouldn’t want to. Don’t think Merle would neither.” He lightly bites at his lower lip, contemplating his next words. Daryl’s eyes flick up to meet Rick’s. “Yer a good leader.”

         Rick huffs. “A good leader? I don’t know about that.” He starts walking again. “But thanks. At least someone in the group thinks so.”

         Daryl follows him, and wonders whether now would be a good time to tell him about the whole time traveling thing. Rick hadn’t spoken this much in a while. Maybe that was a sign he was in a better mood? Daryl remembers that before he swung back and forth between calm and pissed pretty quickly though. So perhaps not.

         What would he even say, anyway? ‘Yer wife’s gonna die and there’s a chance a lot of people are gonna get massacred by some asshole’? Daryl knows that wouldn’t go over well.

         “The place is cleared,” Rick announces once they’re back with the others. “We’ll stay here tonight.”

         Lori looks around, nose crinkling in distaste. “Here? Really?”

         “What’s wrong with here?” Glenn asks, peering out through a window to make sure they were alone. Satisfied, he turns and smiles. “It’s been a long time since I’ve read anything interesting. We should take advantage of it.”

         “There’s no beds and only four couches,” Lori says. “There’s more important things to be worrying about than books.”

         “Watchu complainin’ for, Queenie? You’re gettin’ a couch,” Merle points out. He looks over the four small white couches. “An’ they’re clean. It’s fuckin’ luxury in here.”

         “I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand,” Lori replies with a sniff. Still, she sits on one of them and rests a hand on her growing belly. “It’ll have to do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         The light dusting of snow sparkles in the sunlight where it rests undisturbed. A raccoon creeps down from a tree and paws through the frozen ferns, looking for food. Red flashes by, a cardinal winging it’s way back to his nest. The hush of the snowy woods seems eternal.

         A crack of gunfire shatters the silence. The raccoon dashes into the bushes.

         “Damn,” Carol mutters. She lowers the gun and laughs. “I’m clearly not hunter material.”

         Daryl lifts a shoulder in a partial shrug. “That’s what practice is fer. You’ll get it eventually.” He adjusts the squirrels he has draped over the other shoulder.

         Carol grins. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better or do you mean that?”

         “I mean it.” Daryl smirks. “Yer pretty much a badass in the future.”

         “Is that so?” Carol looks at the gun thoughtfully. She turns to Daryl and arches an eyebrow expectantly.

         Daryl gives an amused huff. “Yep. Blew up an entire cult. Shot whoever made it outta the blast,” he says. He starts heading back the way they came. Better to get back to the group before any walkers show up, looking for the source of the noise.

         “Gee, is that all?” Carol asks, playfully bumping into Daryl’s shoulder.

         “Yer also friends with a guy who has a pet tiger,” Daryl replies. “Thought that was pretty cool.”

         Carol’s eyes widen. “No kidding?”

         “Nope. ‘M a hundred percent serious.”

         “Wow.” Carol is quiet for a bit after that. Their steps crunch unseen twigs and leaves. Eventually though, she asks, “Have you thought about telling Rick yet?”

         Daryl sighs quietly. “Yeah. Just never seems like the right time, ya know?”

         “The longer you put it off, the harder it’ll be,” Carol says. She looks at him out of the corner of her eyes. “If it’s just us, I don’t know how we’re supposed to keep Lori from dying.”

         “I don’t think we can. Don’t know much ‘bout childbirth, but I’m pretty sure without a hospital whatever we do won’t be enough.” Daryl kicks a rock from his path. He grits his teeth. “An’ tellin’ ‘im ‘bout it won’t do no good. He wouldn’t believe me.”

         Carol nods. “I see. And there’s nothing else you could tell him?” she asks, brows furrowed.

         Daryl frowns, trying to think back. It’s been a while and he knows he doesn’t remember every little thing that happened. “Maybe.”

         Carol gives a little hum in acknowledgment. As Daryl helps her over a fallen tree, she speaks again. “You know, I’ve been curious. Do all those tattoos of yours have some significance?”

         That isn’t what Daryl had been expecting. Not that he’d been expecting much of anything really. “Some.”

         “Like?” Carol prompts. She sounds amused. “Who’re the names?”

         Daryl chews on his bottom lip. “Family. Cousins.” He keeps an eye out for the natural landmarks he’d taken note of on their way out. “This one―” he points to the little devil on his bicep “―was one Merle got me. Fer a birthday. A late one, but still.”

         Carol smiles. “That’s nice. Which is something I never thought I’d say about Merle.”

         “He can be less of an ass when he feels like it,” Daryl chuckles. “I never told the you from b’fore ‘bout them.”

         “I feel lucky then,” Carol says with a smirk. “I was starting to feel jealous of the other me.”

         Daryl stops and turns. “Don’t.”

         Carol’s eyebrows raise. “Huh?”

         “Don’t feel jealous.” Daryl scowls and looks her in the eye. “You, Rick, Glenn, Maggie, everyone, y’all are still you. Yer still family.” He looks away. Daryl feels stupid, getting all worked up like this.

         “Hey, don’t be upset,” Carol soothes, reaching out to touch his arm. “I was only teasing.”

         Daryl ducks his head and pushes into her personal space, hugging her. “Don’t matter what time it is. Wouldn’t change y’all.”

         Carol smiles and pets his head. “I’m happy to hear that.”

 

 

         When they make it back to the group, it’s to see that Carl, Sophia, and Beth are playing in the snow together. Or trying to. There’s just enough snow to make some flimsy snowballs, but it doesn’t seem to matter much. Jacqui and T-Dog are keeping a close watch over the three of them, so Daryl doesn’t worry.

_Thwack!_

         Daryl grunts. Something plops off his shoulders onto the ground.

         “Ha! Gotcha!” Glenn crows, punching the air. His smile fades into a grimace as Daryl turns to glare at him. “Uh, don’t hurt me?”

         Daryl picks up some snow and lobs it at him. “Ya gonna play dirty, yer gonna deal with the consequences!”

         Glenn yelps as snowy mush pelts him in the face. “Okay, so I deserved that,” he laughs, wiping at his eyes.

         “Damn right,” Daryl retorts, smirking. He most definitely does _not_ shriek when a handful of icy snow is shoved down the back of his shirt. “What the hell!?”

         Maggie grins at him when he whips around. “Looked like you two were havin’ fun without me. Can’t have that, now can I?” She accepts Glenn’s high-five.

         “Fuckin’ Christ, woman! Didja have to join in like _that_?” Daryl complains. He does a full-body shake, trying to get the snow out of his clothes. “If I get a damn cold yer the one I’ll pass it to first.”

         Maggie laughs.

         Despite the trickles of cold water running down his back, Daryl can’t really be too mad. The first time they went through this winter everyone had been in a dark mood. It was nice to see most of them in better spirits this time around.

 


	8. Truth

         Daryl tries to find a good time to tell Rick about the whole ‘I’m from the future and I can stop bad things from happening, but not all bad things’ thing. Unfortunately, even when they reach the prison early, he doesn’t get that chance. Either someone else always needs Rick’s attention or Rick is not in a listening mood.

         It doesn’t help that Daryl gets so anxious about it. He nearly missed getting Hershel out of the way of the walker trying to chomp on his leg because he was overthinking shit like a damn pussy. And then Jacqui got bit by a walker trying to get Carol out of the Tombs at Daryl’s insistence.

         Which is why Daryl can only blame himself when Lori dies again.

         “’M sorry, Lil’ Ass-Kicker. I should’ve tried harder,” Daryl whispers to Judith as he feeds her the newly scavenged formula. “If I weren’t so damn stupid… But you’ll be alright. This time.”

         Judith coos and waves her tiny fist at him, making Daryl smile just a bit.

         It’s late and most everyone is asleep. Glenn and Maggie had left earlier to get more supplies. Daryl can only hope it goes better this time, now that Merle isn’t working for the Governor. Somehow he doubts he’s that lucky.

         “I think she forgives you,” Carol says quietly as she reaches the top of the stairs. “And you’re not stupid.”

         Daryl doesn’t reply as he lays Judith in her makeshift crib and tucks her in. After a few moments, though, he does. “I almost called her Judith b’fore.”

         Carol peers into the crib and then smiles at Daryl. “Is that what her name will be?”

         “Mhm.” Daryl sits and lets his legs dangle through the railings on the walkway.

         “That’s a pretty name. Did Rick ever say why he chose it?” she asks, propping her hip against the same railings. “Or, does he? This is why I was never a fan of time travel books or movies. It makes everything confusing.”

         Daryl shakes his head. “Nah. Didn’t say. Least not that I heard. Just started callin’ her that.”

         “Hm. Well, between you and me, I think I prefer Lil’ Ass-Kicker,” Carol says with a stifled laugh.

         The corner of Daryl’s mouth twitches. “Same.”

         “So… this Governor guy, he’s supposed to show up soon, yeah?” Carol asks. She crosses her arms and chews the corner of her lip. “Do you think we’ll be able to get through it better this time?”

         “I wish I knew. Merle’s here now so...” Daryl brings his legs up and wraps his arms around them. “We got more people too. So we have a better shot I think.”

         Carol taps her short nails on the railing and they don’t hear the retreating footsteps. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         When Michonne shows up, it’s with Andrea in tow. They’re both a bit bruised and bloody but otherwise unhurt. But Daryl has a bad feeling he knows what the two are going to tell them.

         “Maggie and Glenn, they were taken,” Andrea says as Amy continues to cling to her. “They’re in a place called Woodbury.”

         Michonne looks everyone over. “It’s a small town. But it’s run by this guy, calls himself The Governor. Pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I can help you get in.”

         “That’s not all...” Andrea bites her lip. “Shane is there too. He wanted to stay.”

         “What?” Rick looks shocked. “Why would he do that?”

         Michonne snorts. “Why wouldn’t he? Seemed like the perfect type to get along with The Governor.”

         Rick looks like he wants to say more on that, but doesn’t. “Alright. We’ll deal with that as it comes. Right now the most important thing is getting Glenn and Maggie out of there.” He turns to the group. Rick’s eyes land on Daryl and a strange, barely noticeable expression forms. It disappears almost as quickly as it appeared. “Daryl, Oscar you’re both coming with us. Go get ready.”

         Daryl gives a small nod and makes to go get his crossbow when Rick’s hand lands on his shoulder.

         “I need to talk to you first,” Rick says, voice stern.

         Confused, Daryl grunts quietly and follows Rick away from the cars. When they stop he fidgets and looks up at Rick from under his lashes. He doesn’t remember Rick doing this the first time.

         Rick stands with his back to him at first. Like he’s thinking about what he wants to say. He turns. “How the hell did you know about Judith? And The Governor?”

         Daryl’s head snaps up. “Huh?”

         “I heard you and Carol last night,” Rick all but growls. “Not everything, but enough.” He surges forward, getting into Daryl’s space. “You _knew_ those things. What else? Did you know Lori was gonna die?”

         Daryl wants to shrink back, but he holds his ground. “I—”

         “You knew, and you didn’t do anything!” Rick shout-whispers. Despite being a good distance away from the others, he clearly doesn’t want this overheard.

         “That’s not—I didn’t...” Daryl shakes his head and looks down at the ground. “I didn’t know how.”

         “ _You didn’t know how,_ ” Rick repeats, tone derisive. He walks a few steps away, then back. “Explain. Now.”

         Daryl’s frustration peaks. “You don’t get it!” Of course Rick wouldn’t get it, though. “I’m tryin’. I’m not you! I’m not a leader!” Daryl rocks on his heels. “It’s confusin’, alright?” He takes a breath, trying to figure out how best to explain.

         Cautiously, he looks at Rick again. “I’m from two an’ a half years in the future—it sounds bat-shit I know, but it’s true—and I ran into some scientist, Michael somethin’. He wanted me to go back three years, to find him so he could stop all this. Must’ve done something wrong ‘cause I got sent back to now. Or to the day you showed up at the quarry.”

         Rick doesn’t say anything, and his expression doesn’t show his thoughts. He just listens.

         Daryl’s nostrils flair and he shifts from side to side. “I’ve been tryin’ to keep everyone alive. _You_ know how hard that is.” He looks at the cracked pavement. “I had to keep Merle from gettin’ left on that roof, ‘cause he woulda cut his hand off and joined the damn Governor. Had to keep Amy from gettin’ bit. Keep y’all from goin’ to the CDC where we’d nearly get blown sky-high and fer nothin’!” Daryl’s breathing picks up. “I found Sophia this time too—didn’t have to watch ya put her down after she came outta that barn! Stopped Carl from wanderin’ off and bringin’ back a walker, which means Dale didn’t get his guts ripped out! Shane didn’t nearly shoot ya this time neither!”

         Rick’s hands grip Daryl’s shoulders. “Daryl.”

         “Hershel still has his leg. But yer right. Shoulda done somethin’ ‘bout Lori. Shoulda told ya sooner,” Daryl’s voice trails into a whisper. He’s not sure if he’s ever said so much at once before.

         “Daryl.”

         Daryl looks balefully up into Rick’s eyes. “’M sorry, Rick. I—”

         “Stop.” Rick squeezes Daryl’s arms, expression soft. “You don’t need to apologize.”

         Daryl blinks. He doesn’t need to apologize? After getting Lori and Jacqui killed? _Yeah right_.

         Rick ducks his head, getting Daryl to look at him again after he’d dropped his gaze to the ground. “Hey. Look, I…I shouldn’t have accused you of not tryin’ to help. Just, Lori...” He sighs, rakes his fingers through his hair. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve done a lot for us. For me. Even before you said what you just said. And now… Jesus, that’s… Shane tried to kill me?”

         “Don’t do much.” Daryl shrugs. “Would’ve told ya sooner, but I didn’t wanna stress ya out more. Thought I could handle it. Shoulda known that I couldn’t. ‘S why… Anyway, ya had every right to be mad.”

         Rick steps back a little, gives Daryl space now that he knows. “I think we can both agree jumpin’ to conclusions is stupid—on both our parts. From now on you’ll tell me things, yeah? And I don’t care if you think I’m too stressed.”

         Daryl nods. He feels a million pounds lighter all of a sudden.

         “And I think you better start with this Governor and what we’re about to walk into,” Rick says. He rests his hands on his hips. “We’ll deal with the other things later. And whatever else you know about.”

         “I’ll tell ya everythin’ I know,” Daryl promises. “Can’t promise things won’t be different ‘cause of what I already changed.”

         The corner of Rick’s lips quirk up. “Every bit of information helps.”

         “Alright,” Daryl says mostly to himself. He nods and paces. “Maggie and Glenn are in some warehouse in Woodbury. When we get ‘em… Before Merle was workin’ fer The Governor, so was Andrea, sort of. ‘Sept Merle didn’t stay. ‘Specially when The Governor made us fight each other. Anyway, I remember Michonne went after ‘im. Killed his walker daughter an’ stabbed ‘im in the eye.”

         “Whoa, wait, walker daughter?” Rick’s brows have shot up his forehead.

         “Mhm. Think she said he’d been keepin’ her in some cage in his house along with a buncha walker heads in tanks,” Daryl says with a half shrug. “Point is, after this, he’ll be comin’ after us. He brings a van full of walkers and crashes the fences, lettin’ ‘em loose in here.”

         “Shit,” Rick mutters, looking agitated. He paces for a moment, then calms. “We’ll get Maggie and Glenn, that plan hasn’t changed.”

         “’Course not,” Daryl agrees.

         “As for the rest… How long does it take him to get here after this?” Rick asks.

         Daryl bites his lower lip. “A day or two.”

         Ricks nods. “We’ll be prepared then.”

         “Yer takin’ this all pretty well. I mean, the whole time travel thing,” Daryl comments as they start back towards the others.

         “After what I’ve been through—am still goin’ through—I have no right to call you crazy,” Rick says with a humorless chuckle. “I did think you were at first. Until Carl suggested naming my daughter Judith. And Michonne and Andrea showed up and told us about Glenn and Maggie.”

         “It’s fine if ya do. I still think it’s nuts,” Daryl replies with a shake of his head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         The thick smoke spills across the streets of Woodbury, masking Glenn and Maggie’s aided escape. Daryl shoots a bolt at anyone trying to get in their way. A gunshot echoes in the night and Oscar goes down.

         “Shane?” Rick stops in his tracks.

         Daryl whips around in time to see Shane emerging from the smoke, gun in hand.

         Shane freezes. “ _You?_ ”

         “Rick,” Daryl warns, aiming at Shane. At this point Daryl is tempted to just kill him and get it over with. But Rick hasn’t given him the go-ahead.

         Rick takes a step closer to Shane. “Come with us. They won’t notice in the confusion,” he pleads. “You don’t belong here.”

         Daryl wonders if Rick remembered that he’d just told him earlier Shane wanted him dead. He grits his teeth.

         “No,” Shane growls. His grip tightens on his gun though he doesn’t lift it to shoot. “I do, actually.”

         “You belong with us,” Rick insists.

         Shane sneers. “That why you left Andrea and me behind?”

         “It wasn’t like that—”

         “Doesn’t matter. The Governor is doin’ what needs to be done. This place is safer than anywhere we’d been. So I’m stayin’.”

         “Safe?” Rick shakes his head. “Do you even know what that psychopath is doin’? Keepin’ walker heads in tanks and his dead daughter in a cage.”

         That gets a reaction. Shane’s brows shoot up, his eyes widen. “What are you talkin’ about?”

         “C’mon, Rick, we gotta go,” Daryl says, swaying on his feet, ready to run.

         Rick looks torn, but Shane is backing away, and so he follows after Daryl.

         Daryl wonders if letting him live will be a mistake.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl watches as Rick cradles Judith and smiles at her. It’s nice to see him relaxing even just a little. That is, until she starts crying.

         Rick looks up, crestfallen, as Daryl approaches. “She doesn’t know me.”

         “Not yet,” Daryl says. He gently pokes at Judith’s cheek and she settles, grabbing at his finger. “See? Ain’t too hard.” Daryl’s eyes move up to meet Rick’s. “’Sides, yer her Dad. She’ll warm up to ya real quick.”

         “She shouldn’t have to,” Rick mutters; however, he does seem thankful for Daryl’s comment.

         Daryl guides Judith’s hands over to Rick’s finger, which she quickly latches onto instead. “There.”

         Rick’s frown melts into another smile as Judith babbles happily. He turns the pleased expression onto Daryl. “Thank you. For takin’ care of her when...when I couldn’t.”

         Daryl wishes people would stop thanking him for shit. It’s embarrassing. He bobs his head, nodding in acknowledgment. “Would do anythin’ fer Lil’ Ass-Kicker.”

         “Lil’ Ass-Kicker?” Rick asks with an amused snort.

         “’S what I called her b’fore. When I didn’t know ‘er name,” Daryl explains, chewing his lip.

         Rick chuckles. “If her first words are cusses I’ll know who to blame then.”

         Daryl can’t help the smirk that forms. “I’d like to see that happen in front of Glenn. Could ya imagine his face?” he says with a breathy little laugh.

         That gets a proper laugh out of Rick. “I might just let it slide if that happens.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a bit bad killing off Jacqui and Oscar, but, some people need to die in this thing--it's still a Walking Dead fanfic, lol.


	9. The Prison vs. The Governor

         Rick directs Merle, T-Dog, and Glenn on building up the prison’s defenses. Daryl watches the treeline from one of the guard towers. He knows it’s only a matter of time before The Governor attacks. Luckily, they have more people on their side this time, since Rick allowed Tyreese and Sasha to stay. Allen and Ben had left. _Good riddance_ , Daryl thinks, squinting against the sun.

         He sees Andrea and Amy taking out walkers along the fence, Carl and Beth teaching Sophia how to shoot under Carol’s supervision, and Hershel talking with Tyreese and Sasha, showing them around properly. Dale and Maggie have taken up stations in the other towers.

         All in all, Daryl has hope. Dangerous, he knows, but he can’t help himself. The first attack wasn’t even the worst. The early preparations are really for the second attempt. Daryl has set up the Tombs himself, knowing that’s where they will head to eventually. If all went well, maybe they could stop The Governor early.

         But is staying at the prison really the best thing for them? Daryl isn’t so sure. While Alexandria had never been his favorite place—too fancy and suburban—it was like home for everyone else. It wouldn’t be fair to them, just because Daryl felt like too much of an outsider there. Rick, Carl, Judith, Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Beth...everyone deserved to have a safe place to live. Something normal. And if they could get rid of Negan before he becomes a problem, they could have that.

         Daryl chews on his bottom lip. He only wishes he knew a way to really stop Negan. Rick might. But first they had to get through this. There would be plenty of time to talk to Rick about the rest later. One problem at a time, after all.

 

 

         Daryl thought this time would be different. That getting the fences more secure would stop The Governor and his men from getting through. Shane stands next to the grinning maniac, looking unfazed.

         People are shouting on both sides and the walkers pour out from the back of the bread truck. Daryl shoots at the driver as he tries to escape. Unfortunately the bastard’s wearing armor and the bolt bounces off him. Swearing, Daryl races towards the open gates. As he reaches them, he spots Sophia out in the yard. She shoots at a walker and misses.

         “Sophia!” Daryl shouts, alarmed. Before he can do anything, however, Merle sprints past.

         Merle barrels down the hill and scoops Sophia up. Slinging her over one shoulder, he hurries towards the courtyard, shooting any walkers that dare to get too close. Maggie, Andrea, and Amy lay down cover fire as Merle avoids bullets from The Governor’s men.

         Before they can properly retaliate, The Governor leaves.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl doesn’t know which is more amusing: Sophia following Merle around like a baby duck, or his halfhearted attempts to stop her from doing so. Either way, it makes him happy to see. Merle still had problems, but Daryl hopes he can get better.

         “If I’d known savin’ Freckles would mean I’d never get no damn alone time I’d’ve left her there,” Merle grumbles, joining Daryl at his perch in the tower. Daryl has been waiting up there while Rick, Michonne, and Carl are gone.

         “No, ya wouldn’t,” Daryl replies with a smirk. He holds up a pack of cigarettes.

         Merle takes one. “Psh, sure I would.” He huffs out some smoke. “You an’ the Sherriff are awfully friendly,” Merle remarks, eyes rolling to the side to watch Daryl.

         Daryl lights his own cigarette. “That’s ‘cause we’re friends,” he says. “Duh.”

         “Don’tchu sass me,” Merle snaps. He blows a puff of smoke into Daryl’s face. “I just wanted to know if you knew why the prick keeps glarin’ at me.”

         “You can’t ask ‘im yerself?” Daryl waves the smoke away, grimacing.

         Merle snorts. “You’re the one that want’s me to play nice. If I ask, I’ll punch ‘im.”

         Daryl can’t exactly deny that. “I’ll talk to ‘im ‘bout it.” He has a feeling he knows the reason for Rick’s glares. Daryl _had_ mentioned Merle had worked for The Governor in the other timeline; but, this was a different time and Rick should keep that in mind.

         “Good,” Merle grunts. “Also, Freckles wants me to teach her to fight. You’re gonna help since you ain’t doin’ nothin’.”

         Daryl squints at him. He is, in fact, doing things. But he can let that comment slide. The thought of Merle trying to teach Sophia to fight was...worrying. Not that Merle would hurt her, but Daryl knew how easily frustrated he got trying to teach things. It would be a lot better for everyone if Daryl was there to ease the process. “Sure.”

 

         Sophia is nearly bouncing in her excitement as Daryl and Merle lead her to the cleared out yard—having gotten Carol’s permission to teach her first, of course. “Mr. Daryl, can you teach me how to use a crossbow too, please?” she begs, swinging their hands which she’s been gripping tightly the entire walk. “It’s really cool!”

         Daryl shakes his head. “Not ‘till yer bigger. Too small now.”

         “Aw.” Sophia pouts.

         “It’d knock you on you’re ass, girlie,” Merle adds with a chuckle. “’Less you want that to happen, you’d best wait.”

         Sophia sighs heavily. “Okay.”

         “Maybe a bow an’ arrow would be a better start,” Daryl relents. It’s not as though he didn’t start learning young, after all.

         Sophia’s smile battled the sun for brilliance. “That would be _awesome_!” She lets go of their hands to hug Daryl around the waist. “Thank you!”

         “Uh-huh.” Daryl awkwardly pats her head. “Ya already know a little ‘bout how to use a gun. So we can either start with that or… was there a plan?” He looks at Merle.

         Merle spits and Sophia grimaces. “Yeah. Figured Freckles could learn some hand-to-hand combat. ‘Least a little bit,” he replies.

         “That’s really why you wanted my help, huh?” Daryl shakes his head. He had to admit, though, it’d probably do her some good. “Fine. But ya actually have to explain things.”

         “Of course!” Merle spreads his arms. “You act like you don’t trust Ol’ Merle.”

         “I don’t,” Daryl snorts.

         “Good.” Merle lunges, using his arm to catch Daryl in the stomach and send him to the ground. He flashes a grin to Sophia. “Lesson number one, girl: never let your guard down.”

         Daryl knees Merle in the crotch. Merle wheezes and his grip loosens. Daryl rolls them so that he’s pinning Merle down this time. “Don’t listen to no-one ‘bout fair fights, fightin’ dirty is encouraged,” he explains. “Go fer the soft bits.”

         Sophia nods, watching all this with her hands over her mouth. “Got it,” she squeaks.

         Merle and Daryl struggle for a bit before pushing up and away from one another. They circle each other in the dirt. “Most important thing is you gotta know your opponent,” Merle says.

         “Don’t matter if they’re bigger or smaller, there’s a way to beat ‘em,” Daryl adds. “Just gotta find the weak spots.” He springs into action.

         They grapple for a while, calling out instructions between muttered curses. Beth, at some point, comes down to watch as well. Daryl and Merle eventually call and end to the lesson—mostly because they’re both a bit more beat up than planned.

         “Maybe Beth can be your sparring partner next time,” Merle says, bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

         “’S a good idea. Then ya both can learn things,” Daryl agrees. He rubs at the blood from a scratch on his cheek.

         Sophia looks to Beth. “Will you?” she asks, eyes wide.

         Beth laughs. “Sure. Like Daryl said, it could be useful for us both. Besides, these two old farts might kill each other if they try that again.” She only giggles more when Daryl and Merle shoot her matching offended looks.

 

 

         Daryl finds Rick standing outside on the catwalk, looking up at the moon. It’s nearly full. “Ya alright, Rick?”

         Rick curls his fingers into the chain-link fence. “Yeah. No… I don’t know.” He sighs and looks at Daryl. “Even knowin’ what’s gonna happen, it’s not exactly easy to prepare. Especially since none of the others know—except Carol.”

         “I get it,” Daryl replies. He wonders if now is a really a good time to bring up Merle. Then again, if Merle feels like he isn’t welcome, he might take off. Because that’s what Merle does. It’s what Daryl does too, if he’s honest. “Wanted to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’.”

         Rick steps back from the fence and turns to properly face Daryl. He gestures for him to continue.

         “Merle thinks ya got a problem with ‘im.” Daryl crosses his arms over his chest. “I know ya don’t like ‘im. Don’t expect ya to. But if yer glarin’ at ‘im ‘cause of what he did in the other time line… He don’t know ‘bout that stuff. Ya can’t be mad at ‘im fer somethin’ he didn’t do.”

         “That _i_ _s_ part of it,” Rick allows, resting his hands on his hips. “And you’re right. About that, anyway. However, while he’s been less of an asshole than usual, he still makes some of the others uncomfortable.”

         Daryl chews his bottom lip. “I know he’s an ignorant piece of shit. ‘M not blind or deaf.” He just his chin defiantly. “But Merle’s my brother. Ya gave me a chance. An’ it might not be obvious to everyone else, but he’s tryin’.”

         Rick give a slow nod. “I know. I’m not kickin’ him out. But maybe you should have a talk with him about his behavior. Especially about his choice of words when it comes to certain members of our group.” He arches his brows meaningfully.

         “I’ll try,” Daryl says.

         Rick places a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. Squeezes. He walks past him into the prison.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         The front guard towers explode and crumble to the ground in a cloud of smoke, dust, and fire. Men swarm the yard, taking down the walkers that hadn’t yet been cleared out. Large trucks smash through the gates and screech to a stop in the main courtyard.

         Soldiers follow The Governor into the prison. They check all the cells, finding no-one. The Governor has Shane lead one group down one end of the Tombs, while he leads his group down another.

         Everything is quiet. Dark.

         Lights flash in the Tombs, smoke billowing up and through the twisting corridors. Alarms blare and the Tombs are filled with red light. The soldiers panic, despite Shane’s attempts at keeping them orderly.

         “Stand your ground!” The Governor barks, covering his nose and mouth. But the damage is done. A couple of men scream as they trip barbed-wire traps trying to escape.

         Maggie and Glenn rain bullets on the soldiers as they flee back through the prison. Tyreese and Sasha join in a few moments later.

         The Governor, Shane, and the few remaining soldiers retreat, driving off as fast as they can.

 

         “What the hell are you doing!?” The Governor shouts at his people.

         “It’s not worth it,” someone replies. There’s a murmur of agreement through the crowd. After a failure like that, the people’s morale is shot.

         Shane ducks behind a truck as The Governor opens fire on them all. Only Martinez and Shumpert are spared, besides himself. Allen is the last to fall. _What the fuck?_ Shane thinks, running his hands over his head. Maybe...maybe Rick had been right.

         The Governor turns on Shane as he breaks from his cover. Philip glares at him with his one good eye, gun at the ready. A moment’s hesitation, then he turns and goes to make sure everyone else is dead.

         Out of ammo, The Governor gestures to the three of them to join him in one of the trucks. He doesn’t speak to them as they climb inside and he drives off.

         For once, Shane has no words.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         When Rick and his group come upon the carnage, Daryl is disappointed. He had been hoping they might get there faster this time, hoping they’d get to truly stop The Governor before he could escape and build a new army.

         Like before, they find a survivor. A woman named Karen. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleads, hands up. “He… The Governor he just… he shot everyone.”

         Rick looks to Daryl.

         Daryl nods.

         “Take us to Woodbury,” Rick tells her.

 

         Daryl follows Rick and Karen into Woodbury. She tells the remaining residents that The Governor killed the others before running away. Though shocked and upset, the people agree to go and live with Rick’s group at the prison.

         “What is this?” Carl asks when they arrive back at the prison.

         “They’re gonna join us,” Rick says. “These people, they’re innocent. They had no idea what The Governor was doing.”

         Carl glares up at his dad before storming off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It makes me so happy to see that people are enjoying this fic! Really, the kudos and comments make my day. :D I know most of this seems to be a retelling of the show, but you should know it's going to start deviating quite a bit pretty soon. Then the real fun begins. ;)


	10. Council

         It’s been a little over a month since The Governor disappeared, though Daryl knows he’ll return. The Council has been set up again, with the welcome addition of Dale, and Bob was recently brought to live with them. Daryl knew now was the best time to talk to Rick so they could figure out what to do about…well, everything.

         He spots Rick in the gardens, standing up and wiping his brow. It’s a wonder Rick hasn’t keeled over, really, given how damn hot it’s been. A strange heat too, considering it’s September. Or at least, Daryl thinks it’s September. A bead of sweat trickles down Rick’s temple, cheek, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

         Rick spots Daryl as he turns to put his tools away. “Hey.” He smiles.

         Daryl blinks. “Hey,” he replies.

         “If you came out here to tell me it’s too hot out to work, Carol beat you to it an hour ago,” Rick says with a chuckle. He brushes his hands together, dusting off the dirt.

         “Nah.” Daryl’s eyes sweep the nearby area. No-one’s close enough to be an issue. “Just wanted to talk. ‘S important.”

         Rick nods, then dips his head in the direction of a spot of shade beneath an empty guard tower. He leads Daryl over and they sit.

         “Also brought ya this,” Daryl says, holding out a water bottle. “Gonna pass out from dehydration.”

         Rick grins and accepts the water. “I don’t think I’m doin’ _that_ badly. But thanks.” He takes a swig of water and sighs in relief. “Then again...”

         Daryl can’t help but smile, just a bit. Unfortunately, there are things that need to be talked about. Maybe someday they could have normal conversations. Daryl nearly laughs at himself. He’s never had a “normal” conversation in his life, even before the world went to shit.

         “So?” Rick prompts, leaning back against the concrete.

         Right, important shit. Daryl rests his arms on his knees and sighs. “So, uh, ya already know The Governor’ll be back, like, in two months.” Rick nods and Daryl continues. “Okay… That ain’t the only thing we need to be worried about.”

         “I figured as much,” Rick says quietly.

         Daryl looks over at the kids by the fences. Specifically two little girls. “See the older blonde girl?” He points.

         “Yeah. I think her name is Lizzie?”

         “Carol—the other Carol—told me ‘bout her. She ain’t right in the head. Thinks the walkers are people,” Daryl tells him.

         “Like Hershel did?” Rick asks, brows raised. “I mean, she _is_ a kid...”

         “Sort of.” Daryl frowns. “She’s gonna start feedin’ ‘em. Rats and shit. It makes people here sick. Caused an entire infection, nearly half the place had to be quarantined. People died.” He sees Rick tense. “We were weakened. The Governor attacked and we all got separated. Durin’ that time, Carol said Lizzie killed her little sister. Was gonna kill Judith too. She wanted ‘em to change.”

         Rick frowns. He seems unsure of how to respond, his hands clenching against his knees. He stands. “I’ll be right back.”

         Daryl nods and watches as Rick storms into the prison. If they could stop that much, then that would buy them more time to figure things out. He sees Rick leave the prison a few minutes later, Lizzie and Mika’s father trailing after him. They speak briefly and then Ryan heads down into the yard.

         “More precautions’ll need to be taken, but for now, Ryan’s agreed to keep a close eye on Lizzie,” Rick says as he joins Daryl in the shade again.

         “How’d you get ‘im to agree to that?” Daryl asks.

         Rick sighed. “Told him the truth. Sort of. Told him that his daughter was exhibiting the early signs of being a psychopath. He wasn’t that surprised.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m hopin’ that’ll be enough.”

         “Hope so,” Daryl agrees. “But we should get a team out to get some meds and stuff soon, just in case. That vet school has what we need. It’ll be hell gettin’ there, but it’s worth it.”

         Rick nods. He looks Daryl in the eye, but says nothing. For a few moments anyway. “I think we should tell the Council about all this. And you can explain the rest to us at the same time.”

         Daryl bites at his nails. He dips his head in a small nod. “If ya think it’s best.” If Rick thinks everyone knowing will help, well, Daryl won’t argue. “Not sure if they’ll believe me though.”

         “You’ll have me and Carol backing you up. If they have a problem with it… Well, we’ll deal with it.” Rick pats Daryl’s shoulder before standing again. “But I have a feeling it’ll work out.”

         “If ya say so.”

 

         The Council gathers in the prison library later that day. The setting sun peeks through the windows, illuminating the room in a warm golden glow.

         Sasha is the first to speak up. “I’m guessing this is some sort of emergency, since you insisted we all be here ‘no matter what’.”

         “In a sense,” Rick says with a half nod. He looks to Glenn. “What’s going to be said here, it can’t be repeated to anyone else. I know you don’t feel comfortable with secrets, so if you don’t think you can keep this, you can go.”

         Glenn gives a sheepish little smile and shakes his head. “I’m good. If it’s important, I want to know.” He pauses. “You guys are the only ones I’d feel bad lying to anyway.”

         “Alright then.” Rick rests his hands on the back of the chair Carol sits in. “Daryl?”

         Daryl shifts. He hates being the center of attention—especially in this situation. “It’s gonna sound fuckin’ nuts, but, uh, I’m….fromthefuture.” Everyone stares at him in confusion.

         “You want to repeat that, son?” Hershel says, tone faintly amused.

         “I’m from the future.” Daryl frowns at the floor. It sounds stupid every time he says it. “’Bout two years or so.” He quickly explains how he met Michael, and the experiment, and how he was sent back. Daryl refuses to look at anyone throughout, knowing he’d lose his nerve if he did.

         The room is quiet.

         “You’re right, that does sound fucking nuts,” Sasha says eventually, shaking her head. She looks at Rick. “We might not have calendars, but I’m sure it’s not April Fools. What’s the deal?”

         “I ain’t makin’ it up!” Daryl snaps.

         “As insane as it sounds, he’s telling the truth,” Carol adds. “He was able to find Sophia because of it. He knew where to look, and knew to keep an eye on the barn. She’d have...have ended up in there if he hadn’t.”

         “He knew about Judith. What Carl would suggest naming her. He knew about The Governor’s attacks—and the one that’s going to happen in a few months,” Rick tells them, standing up straight. “Just now, he told me about one of our new residents, Lizzie Samuels. How she’s sick and dangerous. She was going to feed the walkers out there. But I talked to her father, and he confirmed what Daryl said.

         “Which is why I called this meeting. Because Daryl knows things. Things that can keep us alive. If you give him a chance to explain, I’m sure you’ll be convinced.” Rick let his gaze sweep meaningfully over them all.

         “If there’s any chance of this being true, I think we should listen,” Hershel says.

         “Really?” Glenn asks, brows furrowed. “I mean, are we sure Daryl didn’t hit his head? Or get some sort of disease from a possum? He does think he saw a Chupacabra once...”

         Before Daryl can tell Glenn to shut his damn mouth, Dale speaks up. “Rick and Carol are both level headed people. If they think Daryl’s telling the truth, then I agree with Hershel.” He gives a small smile. “It can’t hurt.”

         Rick gestures for Daryl to continue his story.

         “So, like Rick said, The Governor’s plannin’ another attack. This one’ll be a lot worse than the other two,” Daryl starts. “Last time he found a new group of people. Scared ‘em into thinkin’ we were monsters. All of _us_ , we were dealin’ with a flu or something, ‘cause Lizzie was leavin’ opened up rats and other animals everywhere without anyone knowin’. People died and more than half this place had to be quarantined. Me, Michonne, Bob, an’ Tyreese went out to find some medicine.

         Anyway, point is, we lost a lotta people. Hershel and Michonne went out to bury some of ‘em and got caught by The Governor.” Daryl sees Maggie sit up straighter, looking alarmed. “The Governor came here. Tried to make us leave. When we didn’t… he killed Hershel right in front of us. Cut his head off with Michonne’s sword.”

         “What!?” Maggie gasps, and Glenn wraps an arm around her shoulders.

         Hershel looks grim.

         “Why would Hershel have gone out to help Michonne? Surely someone else could have?” Glenn asks, brows raised. “T-Dog? Merle even?”

         Daryl shakes his head. “Both were dead. T-Dog tryin’ to save Carol in the Tombs when we first got here, not Jacqui—she’d died at the CDC. It blew up. The Governor got Merle...an’ I had to put ‘im down.”

         Carol places a comforting hand on Daryl’s arm.

         “Dale weren’t even here before. He’d gotten bit on the farm. Shane too, ‘cause he tried to kill Rick,” Daryl explains, before anyone can ask about them. “Andrea died durin’ all this. She’d been workin’ fer The Governor.”

         “Why would she do that?” Dale asks, eyes wide. “That doesn’t sound like her at all. She’d never betray us. Especially her sister.”

         “’Cause Amy was dead. ‘Cause we left her at the farm by accident and she didn’t have anyone else ‘till Michonne.” Daryl crosses his arms over his chest. “Even with the Woodbury people, we were outnumbered last time.” He bites his lower lip. “If we don’t change things, it’ll only get worse after the attack.”

         Rick frowns, clearly concerned. “How?”

         “The Governor attacks the place, breaks the fences down, brings in tanks,” Daryl says. He glances at everyone. “Things go to hell real quick. We all got separated before. Maggie, Sasha, an’ Bob. Rick an’ Carl an’ Michonne. Tyreese, Lizzie, Mika, Judith an’ Carol. Me and Beth.” He can’t keep the choke out of his voice on the last one. Daryl frowns. “We can’t let that happen. No matter what goes down, we can’t get separated!” His breath hitches. “Not again.”

         “Daryl...” Maggie’s expression is slightly pinched. “Daryl, what happened to Beth?”

         Daryl can’t look at her. “We were stayin’ in a funeral home fer a night. Walkers attacked and I lost sight of her. She got kidnapped. Taken by some assholes that run a hospital in Atlanta.”

         “A hospital?” Hershel repeats. “Why there?”

         Daryl shrugs. “Just happened to ‘ve been left standin’ I think. We went to go get her an’…they shot her.”

         Maggie presses a hand over her mouth and Hershel closes his eyes.

         “But that was after Terminus,” Daryl says. He has to keep going. If he stops to think about his failures from before he’ll never get through it. “There’s signs out there, along the train tracks, all fer Terminus. Sayin’ that it’s safe, a place to survive. But it ain’t. The people there, they ain’t people. They’re cannibals. Caught us all. We escaped but they... _ate_ Bob’s leg.”

         Everyone looks a little green at that.

         “I admit this is a bit, well, detailed to be completely made up, but,” Sasha shakes her head, “how can that all be real? Just...time travel? I can’t wrap my mind around it.”

         Daryl fixes her with a look. “You an’ Tyreese were talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ one day. The day we went to get Beth. I think Tyreese said you used to copy him when you were kids? That ya always were doin’ the same things. An’ how that still happens now. Not only that, Noah—a kid in that hospital who joined up with us—he was talkin’ ‘bout how Tyreese always listened to the news. ‘Cause that’s what yer dad did. The price fer livin’ or somethin’?”

         Sasha’s eyes widen. “How did—”

         “Because I’m _tellin’ the truth_.” Daryl shifts on his feet and bites at his thumbnail. “I wish I weren’t but I am.”

         Hershel sits up straighter. “So we change it.” The others look at him. “We have more people, correct?”  
Daryl nods.

         “Then we’re already doing better. We just need a plan,” Hershel says. He smiles slow. “I’d about given up on miracles. But that’s what this is, in a way. We know what’ll happen, and where we went wrong before. So we can fix it now.”

         Dale still has that bug-eyed look about him. “But what if we can’t change it? We can make plans, but what if something goes wrong? How do we keep from getting separated? From ending up in Terminus?”

         Rick steps around Carol’s chair. “We get a map, and we figure out where we can meet if something like that happens.” He leans forward, palms flat on the table. “Groups can go out now and in the coming months, set up backup plans. Routes we can use to escape if necessary.” Rick glances at Daryl. “Is there anything else we should know?”

         Daryl nods. “There’s a place in Virginia. A community called Alexandria. We ended up there after a while, an’ it was nice. Y'all’d like it. It’s got fences suroundin’ the place, solar panels, runnin’ water, real houses, an’ space fer expandin’.”

         “That sounds a lot better than here,” Glenn comments, resting his arms on his knees. “If The Governor wants this place so bad, maybe we should just go to Alexandria instead?”

         Maggie squeezes his hand. “It does sound good.” She looks at Rick. “Then we don’t have to fight. We don’t have to risk losin’...losin’ anyone.”

         “Almost sounds too good to be true,” Sasha says, eyes narrowing. “What’s the catch?”

         “There’s a few things.” Daryl shifts from foot to foot. “The people there don’t know what it’s like out here. Most of ‘em don’t anyway. They’re soft. An’ then there’s the other communities.”

         “Other communities?” Rick echoes, raising an eyebrow.

         “Hilltop, The Kingdom, and The Sanctuary,” Daryl replies. “Hilltop and The Kingdom are alright. They’re good people. The Sanctuary though… It’s run by a man named _Negan_.” Daryl practically spits the name. “He’s been takin’ half of everything the other two have, an’ killin’ anyone who stands against him. Makes The Governor look like nothin’ more than ‘n annoyance.”

         “That’s just great,” Glenn sighs. “Wherever we go, we’re gonna get attacked.”

         “Maybe, maybe not. Negan didn’t know ‘bout Alexandria until _we_ caught his attention. If we can avoid doin’ that...” Daryl shrugs. He’s not sure if it would make any difference or not, really. Still, he wants them to have all the facts so they can make a decision.

         Rick rubs at his jaw, thinking. “Well, we don’t have to decide right away. There’s still a couple of months to really think it all through.” He nods to himself and stands up properly. “We’ll have regular meetings. Figure out our options. But we’ll have to come up with a plan _before_ The Governor returns.”

         “Sounds reasonable,” Dale says. “I just hope we can all agree on something this time.”

         “We will. We don’t have much of a choice,” Rick replies. “Now, there is something we can take care of in the meantime. Hershel, that veterinary college you told us about, it has a lot of medicine in it, according to Daryl. So, we’ll send out a group to make a run there, get what we can. No matter what happens, more medicine is always helpful.”

 

         The decision is made that, in a few weeks, Daryl, Bob, Andrea, and Sasha will head for the veterinary college. Before that, they’ll send a couple of groups in that direction to clear the area of as many walkers as possible.

         Daryl thinks it sounds like a good plan. It’s better than going out blind and running into that giant herd like last time, anyway. As he heads towards C Block, he hears footsteps approaching.

         “Hey, Daryl?” Glenn starts, catching up to him. They slow to a stop.

         “Yeah?” Daryl folds his arms across his chest.

         Glenn rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get the whole time travel business, but, I wanted you to know I do believe you.” He gives a little laugh. “Honestly, thinking about it, it makes a little sense—the whole 180 your personality took that day we went to Atlanta.”

         Daryl snorts. “Ya make it sound like I was an asshole or somethin’.”

         “You kinda were,” Glenn says with a cheeky grin.

         Daryl scuffs his boot against the concrete. “I know.”

         Glenn pokes his arm. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. Besides, we’ve all been assholes at one point or another.” The amusement in his expression fades. “I wanted to talk seriously, though.”

         Daryl nods and squints at him. “Okay.”

         “First, I wanted to say thanks. For sharing that with all of us. I know it couldn’t have been easy, but, yeah. Thanks.” Glenn shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure what you did tell us wasn’t even half of what went down. Or even everyone we lost along the way.” He looks up at Daryl. “And I get it, I do. Just the things you did tell us, I’m sure it was heavy shit.”

         Daryl isn’t sure about how to respond to that. By his tone, Glenn is likely hoping for more information. Daryl bites at his lower lip. “There’s somethin’ you should probably know. I wasn’t sure if I should say anythin’ but...” He sighs. Daryl doesn’t deserve forgiveness, but Glenn still should know. He looks Glenn in the eyes. “When we first heard ‘bout Negan, we didn’t realize what we were dealin’ with. Not really. A group of us, we got caught. Negan threatened us, killed one of our group, an’ I just...lost it. I punched him. An’ as punishment he killed you. Beat yer head in with his bat right in front of Maggie.”

         Glenn stares at him, eyes wide.

         “It was my fault. If I hadn’t… An’ I know sayin’ sorry ain’t enough. I don’t expect ya to forgive me fer that, but ya needed to know.” Daryl looks down at the ground. “Whatever happens this time, if it all goes south, I’ll make sure it won’t happen again. If he’s gonna punish anyone fer my mistakes it’ll be me only.”

         The corridor is quiet. When Daryl looks, Glenn is staring off to the side, deep in thought. He wonders if he should leave it at that, or wait for some kind of response. Maybe Glenn would want to punch him. Daryl wouldn’t stop him if so.

         Glenn nods slowly. He licks his lips. “Thank you for telling me.” Glenn looks at him. “I don’t really know how to feel about it. I mean, it hasn’t happened to me. _This_ me. So… it kind of doesn’t feel real?” He frowns a little, though not in anger. “But knowing what it would do to Maggie, it still stings.”

         Daryl doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at the floor.

         “While I’m sure you didn’t help things, I can’t exactly say it’s entirely your fault. It’s not like you knew he’d kill someone other than you,” Glenn continues. He shrugs. “I don’t know if the me from your time would forgive you. I’d like to think I would. And it hasn’t happened this time, and it might not ever. So...” Glenn gives Daryl a half smile. “I forgive you.”

         Daryl’s head snaps up. “Ya do?”

         “Yep,” Glenn replies. He grins. “But if it happens again, I’m haunting your ass forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out longer than expected, but hey, I guess that's a good thing. Hopefully anyway, lol.   
> As always, thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! ^_^


	11. Getting Out of Dodge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is finally up! Thanks for being patient everyone, I know it might have been a bit of a wait. And many thanks to everyone who's commented and left kudos, you guys are the best! :D

         “I can’t believe all this was just sitting here,” Andrea says, shoving the medicine she found in the classroom into her bag. She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “Not _one_ person has looted this place.”

         Sasha smiles back at her. “Right? Maybe our luck is finally changing for the better.”

         Daryl has to wonder if she’s saying that because of what she now knew, or if she was simply humoring Andrea. Either way, things _had_ been going smoothly; but saying something like that? It was just begging for trouble. “We got it all?”

         “Ah...yes. Looks like we have everything on the list, and then some,” Bob replies, closing his own bag—free of booze this time due to Daryl’s hovering. He rounds a table and looks through the window in the door. “Uh, guys? I think we should get moving.”

 

         The four of them make it back to the prison with little issue and with all the medicine they could carry. All in all, Daryl would call it a success.

         “You’re back, good,” Rick says when Daryl stops his bike in the courtyard. “While you were out, the Council talked over places to meet if we get split up. I told them we should wait for you before making a final decision, since you might have a better idea of where’d be safe.”

         Daryl nods and follows Rick inside.

         “So, we know you mentioned Terminus could be found by followin’ the train tracks, but we thought it still might be a good way to find one another if we get split up,” Rick explains as Glenn spreads the map on the table. He taps a finger on a spot of the map. “Around here maybe. Nowhere actually close to Terminus, but also not too close to the prison.”

         Daryl squints at the map, then shakes his head. “Only as a last resort.” He points at a small town. “I think there could work. There’s a church run by a guy, Father Gabriel. He’s a fuckin’ coward but he’d help if we show up.”

         Glenn marks the spot. “How many people is he with?”

         “None,” Daryl snorts. “He’s alone an’ he don’t know how to fight. Nearly got himself killed by walkers when we first met ‘im.”

         “Well, it’s a possibility,” Rick agrees. “Any others?”

         Daryl chews on his bottom lip. “I guess if we’re really desperate, we could go back to Atlanta. The people at the Grady Memorial Hospital are assholes, but they ain’t gonna murder us on sight—I don’t think. It’d only be a problem if one of us were hurt. An’ we might be able to help a kid, Noah, get out.” He shrugs. “He might get out on his own with out us, though.” Daryl looks at Rick. “I think those’d be the easiest to get to, other than Terminus and we _ain’t_ goin’ there.”

         Rick nods and Glenn marks Atlanta. “Okay. Both aren’t great, but like you said, Terminus isn’t an option.”

         “Oh, there could be somethin’ else. Not really a place to meet, though. Last time, Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, and Bob met up with some people on their way to Terminus. Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene. They’re tryin’ to get to Washington DC.”

         “And they’re safe?” Maggie asks, brows furrowed.

         “Yeah. Just a bit…intense? Abraham was military an’ Rosita’s a good fighter. Eugene’s a genius—a fuckin’ lyin’, turncoat coward—but if he ain’t got a reason to go to Negan it should be fine. He knows how to make bullets.” Daryl crosses his arms over his chest.

         Rick blinks at him. “You want a liar to stay with us?”

         Daryl shrugs. “He was only lyin’ ‘bout knowin’ a way to end all this. Told Abraham there’s a place in DC where he could make a cure, but I don’t know if there really is or not since the rest was made up.”

         “I think if we run into them, we should give him a chance,” Dale says mater of factly. “Someone who can make ammo is useful. And if he can do anything else?” He gives a little shrug. “It’s better to have him around than not.”

         Glenn nods, then pushes himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Anyone else we should know about, Daryl? That could help us?”

         Daryl’s fingers twitch and he sighs. “If it’s gone the same way, then The Governor’s found some new people. One of those people is a chick named Tara. She told me b’fore that he found her, her sister, niece, an’ dad in an apartment. He lied to ‘im, like he did to the other people they later came across. Told ‘em we were the enemy. She found out after he killed Hershel he’d been lyin’.

         Tara joined us after that. Glenn found her when we’d all been separated. She’s kinda weird, but she’s good people. We can trust her if we run into her,” Daryl explains.

         Rick nods slowly. “Alright. I think we can make some final plans with this.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         The cars rumble down the dirt road alongside Daryl on his motorcycle.

         A decision had been made; the decision to leave the prison and move on. It had been difficult to convince everyone, but eventually it was agreed that the prison wouldn’t hold them forever. The fences were close to collapsing under the weight of walkers and even if that weren’t an issue, the Council reasoned that they may someday grow out of the space.

         After harvesting the crops and packing what they could into the bus, RV, and cars they headed out at first light. In the hopes of avoiding a huge fallout with The Governor, should they run into him, they had split into two groups; Carl, Maggie, Andrea, Beht, Dale, and Merle followed Rick and Daryl, while the former Woodbury residents, Bob, Amy, Michonne, Sophia, T-Dog, Hershel, Lizzie, Mika, Judith, Tyreese, and Sasha followed Glenn and Carol. Both groups were as prepared as possible.

         That just makes the surprise of running into The Governor and his group on their way to the prison even greater.

         “Rick, I see you’ve come to us instead of hiding behind those fences,” The Governor announces with a sneer. “Not that it’ll do you much good.” His people aim their guns at the group.

         Rick stands in the jeep he’d been riding in. “If you want the prison, you can have it,” he replies, equal contempt clear in his tone. “We’re leavin’.”

         The Governor narrows his one good eye. “Except it’s not the prison I want.” His eye scans the group. “Where’s Michonne?”

         “Um, excuse me? Brian?”

         Attention turns to a familiar face. Tara. Daryl is glad to see her, despite the circumstances. They’re better than last time anyway.

         “What?” The Governor demands.

         Tara frowns. “They’re leaving, right? That’s pretty much surrender.” She lowers her voice and says something Daryl can’t hear.

         The Governor levels her with a glare, then slowly turns it onto Rick. “Give Michonne up, and this won’t have to get ugly,” he warns.

         Rick leans forward, that dangerous glint in his eye that Daryl knows all too well. “Michonne’s not here,” he growls. “And even if she were? I wouldn’t give her to _you_.”

         The crack of a gunshot pierces the air.

         Daryl and Rick watch in shock as The Governor topples from his own jeep, and lands with a thud in the road. Blood streams from the hole in his head, spreading and soaking into the dry dirt beneath him.

         Instantly, everyone is on edge, pointing their guns at one another.

         “Everyone lower your weapons!”

         Daryl looks on in surprise as none other than Shane steps out of the trees and onto the road, rifle in hand.

         “Shane?” Rick’s brows have shot up his forehead.

         A man from The Governor’s group turned on Shane. “Who the hell are you?”

         “The guy that just stopped you all from slaughtering each other for a maniac,” Shane snapped. He turned his hard gaze back to Rick. After a moment, his eyes dropped and he rubbed the back of his no-longer shaved head. “I realized what he was too late. But I did figure it out.”

         The man from before shoots. Shane dodges, but the first shot has set off both sides. Someone screams.

         “Stop!” Rick shouts, avoiding a bullet himself. “STOP!”

         A bolt through the instigator’s eye gets people’s attention. “He said _stop_!” Daryl snarls.

         Rick glares at the people, making sure they’re quiet. “Look, you have two choices. You can either leave right now, or join us. This is a one time offer.” His gaze falls onto Shane. “And that includes you.”

         Shane looks as shocked as Daryl feels. _Is he serious?_ Daryl wonders, frowning. He had told Rick Shane had wanted to kill him. Granted that was last time and Shane had just killed The Governor…still.

         “You mean that?” Shane asks.

         Rick nods. “A man’s word is his bond.”

         A confused murmur spreads through the crowd. Gradually, cars, jeeps, and vans pull away. When the dust settles Shane and Tara are the only two remaining.

         Daryl follows Rick over to them.

         “Look, I didn’t know Brian was trying to make trouble. He said we’d talk to you, not fight,” Tara babbles. “My family is gone, I have no-one to go back to. If you can forgive me, I want to join you guys.”

         Rick spares her a glance. “I already said if you stayed you could join. I know he lied to you, and I don’t hold you accountable for his actions.”

         Tara blinks. Certain that Rick is telling her the truth, she sighs and grins. “Thanks.” Tara holds up her hand for a fist bump, however she drops it once she realizes Rick isn’t going for it. “Right, uh, yeah. Thanks again.” She scoots out of the way.

         Rick frowns at Shane. “Why did you shoot him?”

         Shane scowls back. “Like I said, that man was a maniac.” He grimaces. “When we left the prison, he shot everyone. Martinez, Shumpert, and I were the only ones he spared. He took us with him for a bit, but as soon as we could, we split. I went back to Woodbury only to find it abandoned and crawling with walkers.” Shane shifts and rests a hand on his hip. His expression can only be described as sheepish when he looks at Rick. “What happened… I regret it. All of it. Just, with what happened with Lori and then you left us at the farm… Point is, I want to make up for it.”

         Rick and Shane lock eyes for a few moments. Then Rick nods. “Alright.”

         Shane’s brows raise. “Alright?”

         “Yeah. But you should know, Lori, she… She didn’t make it,” Rick tells him, gaze dropping to the ground. “She gave birth and...Carl, he—”

         “I shot her.” Carl steps forward to stand beside Rick. “Before she could change.”

         “Jesus,” Shane whispers. He rubs at his head and paces. “Lori...” He stops, bends at the waist with his hands on his knees. “And the baby?”

         “Fine,” Rick replies. “Her name’s Judith.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Both groups meet up at the agreed upon section of tracks at sunset. Daryl isn’t sure if he’s entirely surprised or not to see the bus is missing.

         “The bus got a popped tire,” Carol explains, greeting both Rick and Daryl with a hug. “Right in the middle of a herd. We couldn’t get to them in time.”

         Glenn walks over. “On our way here we ran into them, though,” he says and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Just like Daryl said we would.”

         Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene stood by their truck. Rosita assesses them all as Abraham checks his map. Eugene keeps to himself.

         When Rick approaches, Abraham puts the map away. “You must be Rick Grimes,” Abraham says, shaking his hand. “Abraham. This amazing woman with the smokin’ body is Rosita. And that’s Eugene. We were on our way to Washington DC when we ran into your people. Glenn here said you were headed in that direction too?”

         “That’s the plan,” Rick replies.

         Abraham nods, strokes his bushy mustache, and grins. “Then we should travel together. As I told your people, we’re on a mission of the utmost importance.” He puffs up his chest. “Eugene knows how to stop those rotting fuckers once and for all. With all of us working together, we can get him to Washington safe and sound. You’ll all be heroes.”

         “That’s certainly something,” Andrea remarks, having wandered over mid speech. “So what is it exactly? A cure?”

         “Not hardly,” Eugene pipes up. “The exact details of my knowledge are top secret, classified, but I can and will divulge that it is, in fact, a weapon. One of a biological nature, to be clear. Fire with fire, and all that.”

         Daryl wants to roll his eyes. The number of times he had to listen to this crap was more than he ever wanted to. And while some may be fooled right now, at least not everyone would be this time. “We can yap about this later. We need to find some place to camp fer the night,” he interrupts.

         “I think there’s a place a little ways ahead,” Maggie says. She turns to Rosita. “You had somethin’ marked on your map. For shelter?”

         “Yeah, that’s right.” Rosita nods and climbs into the truck. “We’ll lead the way. It won’t be anything fancy, but it’ll do.”

         Abraham gives them all a nod and practically pushes Eugene back into the truck. They turn and head off down the road.

         “So we’re just going with those people?” Shane asks, making Glenn and Maggie jump.

         “Shane? What are you doing here?” Glenn demands, hand snapping to his holster.

         “Whoa, calm down,” Shane says, holding up his hands. He spots Merle pulling out his own gun and Dales suspicious looks. “I’m not here to fight.”

         Glenn grits his teeth. “You shot up the prison! You worked for The Governor!”

         Rick steps forward, blocking Glenn from Shane. “And he said he’s willin’ to make amends,” he says calmly, his hands spread, placating. “I’m givin’ him a chance to do that. I’d appreciate it if you all did the same.”

         “Are you _sure_?” Carol asks, eyes flicking from Rick to Daryl and back. “Really sure?”

         “I am,” Rick says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand I'm going to have to ask for more patience from you guys. I've got a job interview thing coming up this week and so the next chapter might be delayed. Just wanted to let you all know. :)


	12. On The Road Again

         “So, where exactly are you and yours headed?” Abraham asks Rick once everyone is settled around the small fire that was able to be built in the abandoned garage Rosita had found them. He rips into a protein bar of some kind.

         “There’s a community called Alexandria, up in Virginia. I’ve heard it’s pretty safe,” Rick replies. Then quickly amends, “As safe as places can be in all this.”

         Rosita gives him a curious look. “Never heard of the place. How’d you hear of it?”

         “We found a paper mentioning it,” Carol says quickly. She smiles. “Well, Daryl found it, right?”

         Daryl is glad for Carol’s quick thinking. But he wonders if the others will accept the explanation, considering the Council hadn’t exactly told them how they knew. “Yeah,” he grunts. “I was out huntin’ an’ came across an abandoned hut. Whoever lived there left a note sayin’ Alexandria is safe. Left a map too.”

         “And you believe it?” Rosita asks with a snort. “What makes you think whoever it is is still alive? Or that this Alexandria is still safe? If it exists.”

         “Like we gotta choice,” Daryl retorts, bristling. It’s mostly a front, however. It _is_ a weak story, but it’s what they have to stick with now.

         Rick holds up a hand. “Our home was attacked, and we needed to find somewhere else. Alexandria is a plan. We’ll decide for sure once we find it.”

         “It sounds like DC is the safer option, though,” Shane says, breaking into the conversation. By his tone, he seems to know he’s stepping on eggshells. “Maybe we should go with Abraham?”

         Merle spits into the fire. “An’ maybe we should mind our own damn business.” He leers at Rosita. “An’ maybe you an’ me could discuss some _business_ ourselves. Whatta ya say, senorita?”

         Daryl braces for a fight when he sees Abraham grip the handle of his knife.

         Rosita rolls her eyes. “Go fuck yourself, _cabrón_.”

         Merle whistles, amused and impressed both. “No need for that,” he chuckles.

         “Shut up, Merle,” Daryl mutters, glaring at his brother. The last thing he needs is for Merle to start a fight and screw everything up.

         “Whatever. Gonna go take a piss,” Merle announces. He stands and swaggers away from the group.

 

 

         “So, this is Judith?” Shane says, his expression one of quiet awe. He’s holding her while under the watchful eyes of Rick and Daryl both.

         Judith squirms and looks at Rick.

         After most had gone to bed, Rick had apparently decided it was a good idea to introduce them. Daryl didn’t agree, but it wasn’t his decision to make.

         “Yeah,” Rick replies. At Judith’s whine, he moves to take her from Shane. “I thought it would be only right that you get to know her.” A moment’s pause. “She’s _my_ daughter, though. You’d best remember that.”

         “Of course. I know that,” Shane insists. He sighs and rubs a hand over his mouth. “I’ll keep watch, tonight... I’m part of this group, Rick.”

         Daryl watches him go with a frown. Despite Shane’s sincere tone, his eyes said different. Daryl didn’t trust him. He looked to Rick who was gently rocking Judith to sleep. “Rick...”

         Rick shakes his head. “I know what you’re gonna say.” He gives a half smile. “I’m not going to let Shane around Judith except when someone from the Council is with him.”

         Daryl nods. “If yer sure.”

         “Daryl, you told me not to judge Merle based on what he did in another timeline,” Rick says, arching an eyebrow. “Can you do the same for Shane?”

         How could he say no to that? Daryl ducks his head and gives a little nod. “Yer right. I’ll try.” Rick’s hand on his arm makes him look up.

         “Thanks,” Rick says, smiling gently. “I know you’re just worried about us, and I appreciate it. But you don’t have to take it all on yourself. We’re family.”

         Daryl feels all warm inside. “Yeah,” he agrees. And he does; even so, Daryl still knows things that Rick and the others don’t. But that doesn’t mean they’re incapable of defending themselves and everyone else. It’s hard to remember that sometimes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         It took only about three days for Merle and Abraham to throw down and just outright brawl. No-one is quite sure what caused it, but everyone quickly finds that it’s best to let them settle it.

         “Son of a dick!” Abraham grunts, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground. He grins and tackles Merle in retaliation.

         The group watches, some concerned, most bored, as the two beat each other black-and-blue.

         Merle kicks Abraham off him. “That all you got, Carrottop?” he snarls, trying to pin the larger man down.

         “Suck my left nut!” Abraham snaps. He wraps his arm around Merle’s neck in a headlock the same moment Merle does the same to him.

         After a few moments struggle, it’s clear neither is willing to let go.

         The two burst out laughing.

         Daryl watches with only mild surprise as the two release each other and shake hands, both smiling like they’re the best of friends. “Idiots,” he mutters to himself.

         “You think that’s the end of it?” Rick asks, coming to stand beside him.

         Daryl shrugs. “Probably. I think whatever it was is outta their system now.”

         Rick chuckles. “Good.” He’s on his way back to the truck when Daryl stops him. “What?”

         “Do ya have one the maps I can take a look at?”

         “Yeah, just a sec,” Rick replies. He searches the truck, and hands the map over. “Is there something coming up we should know about?”

         Daryl looks over the map. He knows they’re almost out of North Carolina—some time was taken up by avoiding herds, finding drive-able roads, and keeping the trucks and SUV working—so they should be in Virginia soon. “Sort of. Remember what I told ya ‘bout the hospital in Atlanta? An’ how there’s a kid there, Noah?”

         Rick nods.

         “Richmond, Virginia,” Daryl says, pointing to the place on the map. “That’s where he’s from. Well, just outside of it, in Shirewilt Estates. If he gets outta the hospital, that’s where he’s headed.” He hands the map back to Rick. “If we can, I’d like to stop there. Leave a message on the gates or somethin’, since it’s been destroyed.”

         “Destroyed? By walkers?” Rick asks, brows furrowed. “If it’s not safe, we should avoid it.”

         “It’s fine, so long as we don’t go inside the walls,” Daryl explains. “That’s why we should leave a message outside, so he won’t get bit by tryin’ to go home. ‘Cause when we went there before...” He glances back at where Tyreese and T-Dog are chatting by Abraham’s jeep with Eugene. “Tyreese got killed there.” Daryl looks at Rick, determined. “I can do it on my own. Won’t be hard.”

         “No, I’ll go with you,” Rick replies. “Maybe we should leave a note to go to Alexandria as well.”

         Daryl shakes his head. “I think that’d be a bad idea. The reason that town is gone, is ‘cause of a group that calls ‘emsleves The Wolves. When they found out about Alexandria b’fore, they nearly destroyed us too. Broke down a section of the wall an’ about a hundred or so walkers got in.”

         Rick sighs and rests his hands on his hips. “So we’ll leave a message letting Noah know walkers are inside. Then we can say further north is safer. We won’t mention any communities, but either ourselves or Hilltop or The Kingdom should help him if they find him, right?”

         “I guess. The Kingdom more likely, unless he runs into Jesus. But that oughtta work,” Daryl agrees with a small smile.

         “Good. You and I’ll stop when we get near Richmond. The others can continue on.”

         Daryl nods and swings a leg over his bike. He hopes the message will be enough. More than that, he hopes Noah will even get that far.

 

 

         It’s late in the afternoon when Daryl and Rick leave the others to find Shirewilt Estates.

         “You mentioned a group called The Wolves,” Rick says as they come upon the front gates.

         “Mhm.” Daryl starts scribbling a note onto the back of some scrap paper.

         Rick takes the finished message and attaches it to the gate. “Do you know where their base is? If we can wipe them out before we get to Alexandria, we won’t have to worry about them attacking us.”

         Daryl frowns. He’s not entirely sure how many Wolves there are, and whether they’d be outnumbered. Not that that’s stopped them before. “There was a store. The parkin’ lot had three big trucks, used to be fer food and shit. Aaron an’ I accidentally triggered a trap and found out those trucks were filled with walkers.” Daryl shrugs. “I don’t know fer sure if that was their base, but if it weren’t, it’s probably close enough.”

         Rick nods, and the two start to head back. “Hm. Now that I think about it, it’d be pretty hard to explain to everyone how we know about the place. We’ll come up with something when we get to Alexandria.”

         Shadows cast by the trees stretch and twist over the ground. The lower the sun sinks, the harder it is to tell them apart from potential threats. Neither feel the need to worry, though, when they know the other has their backs. Still, they know it’s also better to be out of the woods before night.

         A branch snapping and a low growl are all the warning Daryl has before a walker flings itself at him.

         “Shit!”

         “Daryl!”

         Daryl twists, trying to fend off the walker and grab his knife at the same time. Jaws snap too close to his neck. He tries to pull away and his foot catches on a log, sending him crashing to the ground. Daryl kicks and pushes. The walker grabs at his vest. If he could just get some leverage—

         A knife sinks into the walker’s skull. With a final groan, the walker slumps onto Daryl’s chest. He shoves the corpse off him and sees Rick standing above him looking worried. “Thanks.”

         Rick grabs Daryl’s hand and hauls him to his feet. “We should hurry back. Who knows how many others might be around.”

         “Yeah,” Daryl agrees. The warmth of Rick’s palm on his own lingers.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         One accident after the other seems to follow the group after that. First, they run into a herd, nearly losing Amy—and much to Daryl’s annoyance his bike too—and then Abraham’s truck crashes, followed soon after by both Rick’s truck and SUV running out of gas. Unable to find more gas or more than one workable car, they find themselves traveling on foot.

         Daryl wonders if it’s fate or not. He wasn’t usually one to believe in that, but with the way things happened sometimes, maybe it _is_ real.

         “This is some Grade A shit, that’s for damn sure,” Abraham complains as they trek the long and winding road. It feels as though the day has stretched on forever, and the sun seems determined to burn them all to a crisp.

         “Are you sure we can’t stop to look for more cars? Or a place to stay?” Andrea asks, visibly drooping.

         “We’re not that far off,” Michonne tells her. “Maybe a day away. Two at most.”

         “Actually, if we increase our speed by about five more miles per hour, we could, in fact, reach our destination in approximately twenty-two hours,” Eugene informs them. “It would then take us another ten hours to reach DC, if we continue by foot.”

         “Shut it,” Merle growls. “We ain’t got any cars, and if we went any faster we’d be leavin’ you behind.”

         Eugene flinches and looks down at the ground. He seems about to complain, but Sophia giving his arm a gentle pat makes him smile instead.

 

         Daryl is relieved that he judges their location correctly and is able to find the barn just as night falls. Everyone piles into the barn and sets up for the night, after Carol takes out the walker trapped inside. Most of the group gathers around the low fire, however they’re too tired to talk much.

         It’s a calm night. No rain, no fierce winds, and from the sounds outside, no walkers. Even so, Daryl decides to sit with his back against the rough wooden doors, just in case. He watches as the others find spots to sleep, either alone or with one or two others.

         The fire dies and the barn slips into darkness.

         “Hey,” Rick murmurs, leaving Carl holding Judith in his sleep to join Daryl by the doors. “You can be with the rest of us.”

         Daryl shifts over as Rick settles next to him. Their thighs brush. “I know. But I’d rather sit here tonight.” He lowers his voice further, and Rick has to lean in closer. “It’s a bit different this time, but before there was a huge storm and a herd of walkers tried to get in.”

         Rick smiles, the moonlight just enough to show it. “I get it.”

         Daryl chews on his bottom lip. “I don’t know if he is right now, but last time Aaron was listenin’ in on us. From the road to here. That’s how he knew to find us and bring us back with ‘im,” he whispers. “He thought we’d fit in.”

         “Ah,” Rick replies softly, nodding. Grinning a little, he says a just above a whisper, “It’s good we have a doctor and a veterinarian. Just in case a storm _does_ hit and someone gets sick.”

         Daryl holds back a snort. “Subtle.” He knocks his shoulder against Rick’s.

         Rick chuckles quietly and returns the gesture. “You should get some sleep, Daryl. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you takin’ watch almost every night recently.”

         “Rick...”

         “I’ll wake you up in four hours, okay?”

         Daryl sighs and dips his head in a nod. “Fine. But I’m sleepin’ right here.”

         Rick huffs in amusement. “I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! And thanks to those who wished me luck with my interview. They must have worked because I got it! :D  
> Also, I was trying to keep track of how many people from the original group are still alive in this--26! Can you believe so many have survived? ʘ‿ʘ


	13. Alexandria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone that has left comments and kudos! You guys are amazing! :D   
> To make up for the long wait, I put in a little more Rickyl moments. Enjoy!

         Daryl yawns and blinks open his eyes. The sun is just barely starting to peak into the barn, and the early morning would normally be chilly, except…he’s feeling comfortably warm. He doesn’t exactly remember falling asleep a second time but it obviously happened. Daryl rubs at his eyes, trying to wake himself up more.

         Which is when he realizes his head is resting on a shoulder.

         Rick’s shoulder, to be exact.

         And that would be Rick’s arm casually draped around his middle.

         Daryl’s brain short circuits just a little. Shooting a look around, he’s glad to see no-one else is awake yet. It’s too early. Apparently even for Merle. Slowly, carefully, Daryl extracts himself out from under Rick’s arm and scoots away. He pushes up onto his feet and looks back down at Rick.

         It was strange, waking up next to someone like that. Nice, but strange. But Daryl reminds himself that it was an accident. He’d fallen asleep and at some point he must have tipped over onto Rick. And Rick is used to sleeping with another person, so naturally he’d cuddle in his sleep. Honest mistake.

         Daryl bites his lip and picks up his crossbow. He inches open the barn door Rick _isn’t_ leaning against and slips outside. Breathing in the crisp morning air clears his head. A faint layer of mist hangs over the ground and the pale red sun is trying it’s hardest to shine through the off-white clouds. Daryl doesn’t know how soon Aaron will show himself, so for now he decides to go hunting.

 

         He tracks the buck for a good half-hour through the woods. Daryl had almost given up hope on finding anything after an hour of looking, but the buck had shown up just when he’d been about to turn and go back to the barn. Now, though, the deer is grazing peacefully in a small clearing.

         Daryl lifts his crossbow and licks his lips, his finger moves to rest over the trigger. The buck is directly in his sights. All he needs is one good shot, and it’s his.

         A branch breaks and the buck’s head snaps up. It’s ear twitches. Before Daryl can shoot, it bounds off into the bushes. “Shit!” he growls. Leaves rustle and Daryl whips around, crossbow at the ready.

         “Whoa! Don’t shoot, please.” Aaron steps into the clearing, hands raised and eyes wide. “I’m sorry about the deer.”

         Daryl has to stop himself from rolling his eyes and lowering the bow. After all, Aaron doesn’t know that Daryl knows him. Instead he just grunts and squints his eyes. “Who’re you? Whatta ya want?”

         Aaron eyes his crossbow. “Aaron. My name’s Aaron. And you’re Daryl, right?” Before Daryl can respond, he continues. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your group for a little while. You see, I’m part of a community, Alexandria. It’s not far from here. We take people in sometimes.”

         “Uh-huh.” Daryl wonders how Aaron didn’t get himself killed before this.

         Aaron smiles sheepishly. “Can I speak with your leader?”

 

         “We got a guest, everyone,” Daryl announces as he enters the barn. Luckily most everyone is awake by that point, except Eugene who wakes with a start, hay plastered to his cheek. “This is Aaron,” he gestures to the man, “from Alexandria.”

         “And how did you find him?” Shane asks before Rick can say anything. His eyes narrow and make an assessing sweep over Aaron. “Or how did _he_ find _us_?”

         “It seems pretty convenient that someone from the place we’ve been looking for just happens to find us,” Abraham says, striding over and glaring down at Aaron. “Almost too damn convenient.”

         Aaron’s brows raise. “Wait, you were looking for Alexandria?”

         “Daryl found a map with it marked as a safe place. We don’t know who did it, but we figured it was worth checking out,” Rick explains, stepping between Abraham and Aaron. “But that doesn’t explain how you found us.”

         “I was out with my partner looking for people. It’s our job. And we spotted you a little ways back. We had to make sure you were good people first, before we could announce ourselves,” Aaron says. He pulls his pack off and rummages through it. “Whoever marked the map was right, Alexandria is very safe. And it’s big enough for all of you to join. If Deanna says it’s okay, of course. But here, if you’re still suspicious—and I don’t blame you for it—you can take a look at these photos.”

         Rick takes the pictures and flips through them. His eyes flick up to meet Daryl’s, then back down at the photos.

         Merle, leaning over Rick’s shoulder, snorts. “Looks fancy. Everyone live like that or only the rich assholes?”

         “Oh no, everyone lives in those houses. Like I said, there’s enough for all of you, too. And we’re even thinking on expanding,” Aaron assures, smiling brightly.

         “It looks nice,” Sophia says. She looks up at Rick. “Can we go? Please?”

         “It does look nice,” Michonne agrees, sounding relieved. “Daryl’s find might have just been a miracle.”

         Daryl shrugs.

         Rick nods and hands the pictures back to Aaron. “You said you and your partner found us. Where are they?”

         “Back at the cars,” Aaron replies, slinging his pack over his shoulder once more. “Since it’s just the two of us, Eric thought it’d be best to wait with them, so they don’t get stolen or overrun.”

         “Smart. But how come there aren’t any people in those pictures?” Rosita asks, arms crossed.

         Aaron cringes and scratches the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly a photographer. I tried getting shots of people, but they all came out blurry or with a glare.”

         “Look,” Andrea sighs and rolls her eyes, “as much fun as being suspicious is, I’d rather check the place out.”

         Rick looks at the group, then back at Aaron. “We’ll go with you.”

 

         “Eric!” Aaron shouts in dismay at the sight of several walkers surrounding the RV. Before anyone can stop him, he sprints from the group.

         Daryl swears and shoots a walker in the head as it turns to see what’s making the new noise. The other walkers groan and growl, and a couple others break away and lurch towards Aaron.

         Luckily, they outnumber the walkers, and quick work is made of them. Aaron wastes no time in throwing open the RV’s doors. “Eric! Eric, are you okay?”

         Eric stumbles out of the RV and into Aaron’s arms. “I’m fine. I promise,” he says with a wobbly smile. “Just a little shaken.” He laughs softly.

         “You weren’t hurt?” Aaron asks, looking him over just to be sure. Eric shakes his head and Aaron sighs in relief before giving him a chaste kiss.

         Daryl notices Merle tense and make a face. He elbows him in the side. “Don’t start,” he hisses.

         Merle frowns at him. “You watch your tone with me, boy,” he growls. Merle gives a huff and rolls his eyes. “An’ I won’t. Just don’t see why it oughtta be allowed, now it’s the end of the world. We need to be repopulatin’.” He smirks, eyes roving over the women in their group.

         Daryl’s glare doesn’t let up.

         “For fucks sake, Darlina, I just _said_ I’ll leave ‘em alone. Don’t get your panties in a damn twist.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl sits on the edge of the fancy, high-backed chair Deanne gestures at. Actually knowing her puts him more at ease than he was the first time. Still, he never really liked her. Or her sons. Still, Daryl will play nice and go along with the whole video thing if that’s what he has to do.

         “So, Daryl is it?” Deanna starts, smiling her politician smile.

         Daryl grunts.

         Deanna rests her hands on her lap. “Do you _want_ to be part of Alexandria?” Her tone implies that she thinks he doesn’t. Nor that she really wants him to.

         “Yeah, I do,” Daryl says, looking her in the eyes. “If my family is here, then I am too.”

         Deanna’s smile becomes a little more genuine. “I can appreciate that.” She pats her lap once before standing. “I’m going to be honest with you, Daryl. We don’t exactly need hunters here. But I wouldn’t want to separate you from everyone; I’m sure you can be useful in other ways. What did you do Before?”

         Daryl shrugged. He hated that question. “Little bit of everythin’. My brother an’ I moved around a lot.”

         “Is your bother with you?” Deanna asks, brows raised.

         Sighing silently, Daryl nods. “Merle. He… Look, I know as soon as ya meet him ya’ll’ll know he’s an ass. But he’s my brother. I can handle ‘im. Just...we can’t throw him out.” He hates how desperate he sounds. “He was military, so I know he can be of some use.”

         Deanna makes a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. “Well, I can’t promise to let him stay if he becomes too much trouble. I can promise to give him a chance, however.” She approaches Daryl. “It’s obvious you care about him, as well as everyone else in your group. While rules are important, I’m not completely hardhearted.” Deanna huffs a laugh. “Don’t worry too much. We’ll work things out.”

 

         Everyone settles into one house that night. Daryl sits by Judith’s crib, one leg propped up on the windowsill. He watches her fall asleep and smiles. They’re safe. They’re home. Only a few things left to deal with and then… Well, then Daryl will let Rick decide what to do. He can’t think that far ahead right now, and he doesn’t want to.

         After Deanna’s visit, just about everyone goes to bed. Except Rick. Daryl moves silently from his perch and follows Rick into the kitchen.

         Rick leans against a counter top, head bowed. He stays like that for a few moments, thinking. Pushing himself back, he walks to a window and pushes aside the curtain.

         Daryl wonders if he should say something. Until he remembers that morning, waking up next to Rick, and he retreats to the living room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl enjoys the bits of sun that makes it onto the porch. It’s not as hot as it was in Georgia—actually it’s perfect out. He settles himself on the porch railing and watches.

         Carol, dressed like some housewife, looks up at him as she passes. “Sophia went with Carl and Beth to Jessie’s house. I’m bringing this casserole to the neighbors. Gotta get to know everyone,” she says with a smile.

         Daryl honestly can’t tell this time if it’s faked or not. She _does_ seem genuinely happy. As weird as it is, he hopes it’s true. Carol deserves to be happy.

         “Did you shower yet?” Carol interrupts his thoughts with a brow arched knowingly.

         Instead of answering with words, he shrugs. Daryl has never been a fan of showers. Not only did the shack he’d lived in with Merle and his old man not have one, most of the ones he’d found when out with Merle had never worked properly. Always too cold or too hot. He preferred baths—either in an actual tub or in a river or something.

         Carol shakes her head and smirks. “If you haven’t taken one by the time I come back, I’m hosing you down.” Laughing to herself, she continues on to one of the neighbor’s houses.

         Daryl roles his eyes. It was an empty threat. Hopefully.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         It’s a little weird, seeing Rick in his uniform again. Daryl feels that strange little shiver along his spine, watching Rick step out onto the porch.

         “I think tomorrow we should have everyone sleep in their own houses. I would’ve suggested it for tonight but, it felt a bit early for the ones that don’t know what we do,” Rick says, pushing his hands into his coat pockets.

         Carol nods. She leans against the railing next to Daryl.“I agree. I think it’ll be a nice change. Getting back to normal.” She looks out at the neighborhood. “But… I don’t know, maybe I’m being paranoid.”

         “No, go ahead. What is it?” Rick asks.

         “Well...” Carol crosses her arms and frowns a bit. “I’m worried we might get too comfortable. Let our guard down and become weak. The people here,” she gives a general wave of her hand, “they don’t know what it’s like out there. They’re weak. I don’t want us to become like them.”

         Daryl feels a little relieved hearing Carol’s concerns. As much as he wants Carol to be happy, he wants her to be strong too. And it seems that, even without losing Sophia, she has that drive.

         Rick shakes his head. “We won’t get weak,” he assures. “That’s not us. We will _make_ this work. We did before.” He looks to Daryl, who nods. “We’ll do it again. This time we’ll be stronger. We won’t make silly mistakes. And if the people here can’t do that?” Rick gets that determined gleam in his eye. “If they can’t do it. We’ll just have to take over.”

 


	14. (Un)settled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I have to apologize for taking so long. Things got a little crazy on my end, and I had to re-work some stuff in the story, add some things, and all that jazz. Anyway, we've got some Rick POV and the chapter's a little longer than usual. So I hope that makes up for the wait a bit. Enjoy!

         Rick finds the welcome party a little strange. And he knows he’s not the only one. Sasha looks the most uncomfortable, but Bob’s general good humor seems to be keeping her from running off. Abraham is drunk ten minutes in. Despite Michonne’s smile, she also seems like she’d rather be anywhere else, her grip tight on her glass of wine. T-Dog, Andrea, and Amy were at least trying to make an effort, talking with everyone. Shane stands off to the side with a strained smile as a couple of women make passes at him.

         Of course it’s no surprise that Daryl and Merle are absent. Rick wonders if Daryl came to the party the other time or not. He doubts it, actually. Rick shakes his head and takes a swig of the beer in his hand.

         “Hey there, Rick. Having fun?”

         Rick turns to see Jesse approaching him with a smile. Her husband, Pete, rounds the corner and stands behind her as their youngest son leans against her side. “Hi. Yeah it’s, uh, a nice party.”

         “You don’t have the A,” Sam points out. He pulls a red marker from his pants pocket and looks up at Rick expectantly.

         “Sam,” Jesse says, a little exasperated.

         “No, it’s fine. He’s right, I don’t have one,” Rick chuckles, holding his hand out.

         Sam happily draws a big red A on the back of his hand. “There!”

         “You know, Carol brought some cookies. There still might be some left if you want one,” Rick tells him, gesturing towards the refreshment table.

         Wide-eyed and beaming, Sam takes off.

         Pete snorts and steps forward. “I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m Pete.” He holds out his hand.

         Rick shakes it and smiles politely. “Nice to meet you.”

         “You know, I’m the doctor here. So if you or any of your people need a check up, drop by any time,” Pete offers.

         “Thanks, that’s nice of you,” Rick says with a nod. Despite his words, he has a bad feeling about the guy. Why though, he isn’t sure. It had crept up on him the night before as well. Rick decides he’ll ask Daryl about it later. He might know if Rick is just being paranoid or not.

         Pete ambles away to find Sam and Rick is left alone with Jesse.

         “So...Do you _actually_ like it here or were you just being polite?” she asks with a grin.

         Rick shakes his head. “I do like it here. It’s just...strange after everything.”

         Jesse nods. “I get it. You know, it might not seem like it, but everyone here has lost something at some point.”

         Rick glances around the room, then looks back at Jesse. She’s looking up at him with a soft expression. Rick admits to himself she’s pretty. Normally she’d be his type. But not only is she married, there’s just something not right. Not Jesse herself, just...something. Brunette hair and steel blue eyes flashes in his minds eye.

         “Anyway,” Jesse interrupts his thoughts, “I better get going. Pete’s not really one for parties and it’s Sam’s bed time.”

         “Yeah, of course,” Rick replies. “It was nice seeing you.”

         Jesse laughs. “Same.” She gives a little nod and goes to find her husband.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “Daryl, there was something else I’ve been wantin’ to ask you,” Rick says, as he Daryl and Carol return to Alexandria.

         “What?” Daryl spots the Council—unofficial as it now is—approaching Rick’s house. He wonders if they really need the stolen guns this time.

         “Just wondering if there’s something up with Pete. Jesse’s husband?” Rick asks, frowning.

         Carol glances over at them. “You thought so too?”

         Daryl stops on the porch and looks back in the direction of the Anderson’s house. “He’s hittin’ her an’ shit.” He’d had a bad feeling about Pete the last time, and it hadn’t been much of a shock to learn of his abuse. Things could have been handled better, maybe, but honestly Daryl had been happy when Rick shot the asshole.

         Carol’s face darkens and she clenches her hands at her sides.

         “Does anyone know?” Rick looks just as stormy, his fingers twitching towards his gun.

         Daryl shrugs. “I think Deanna suspects.” He sighs. “Before, when ya found out, you attacked ‘im an’ nearly got yerself kicked outta here. He showed up at yer trial an’ accidentally shot Deanna’s husband, an’ then ya shot him. I ain’t sayin’ there’s a good way to deal with this, but you should know that.”

         Rick’s jaw tenses. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “I’d rather avoid that if we can come to it. I’ll try to think of something. But for now we’ve got other things to discuss.” He gestures to the front door and leads them inside.

 

         “First thing’s first: we have to get rid of the Wolves,” Rick says once everyone’s settled. He frowns. “We can’t go out there to take care of everything else if we’re worrying about them sneakin’ in here and destroyin’ the place.”

         Carol shifts forward in her seat. “We can work on dealing with Pete at the same time. Those around here who’d rather not go and fight can work on building a jail or something.”

         “Wait, what’s wrong with Pete?” Glenn asks, brows raised.

         “He’s abusin’ his wife,” Daryl replies.

Maggie’s lip curls. “ _What?_ Does Deanna know?”

         “Daryl said she does, but nothing could be done because he was their only doctor.” Rick crosses his arms. “But she doesn’t have that excuse anymore.”

         “Damn right she doesn’t” Maggie huffs, shaking her head.

         Dale raises his hand to get their attention. “Okay, so we know what’s going on, and Deanne might have an idea… But what about everyone else? They’ve been here with him since the beginning, they’re going to want proof.” His eyes have that freaked out look to them. “And not to be a downer, but it’s his word against ours. Even if they believe us, they may not want to do anything about it.”

         Hershel nods solemnly. “Dale has a point.”

         “We can’t just sit around and do nothing,” Carol snaps, standing. “We have to at least try.”

         Rick nods and places a hand on her shoulder. “We will.” He drops his hand back to his side. “That’s why I want Maggie to talk with Deanna.”

         “Me?” Maggie asks, eyes wide.

         Rick smiles. “Yes you. I know we’ve been here a short time but I can tell Deanna likes you. She might listen to what you have to say on the matter.”

         “I’ll try,” Maggie agrees.

         “Good.” Rick looks at Daryl. “So, the Wolves, do you know where they live? Or the places they hang around?”

         Daryl nods and moves away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “At least, I know one of their hangouts. There’s a store a few miles away, ‘s got some big trailers out front. Me an’ Aaron went there lookin’ fer supplies an’ nearly got killed by all the walkers hidden inside ‘em.”

         “Then that sounds like a good place to start,” Hershel says. He rubs a hand over his beard. “But from what you’ve said, they sound like they’re smart. At least when it comes to ambushing. They might have other hiding spots around.”

         “Okay, so we’ll have some people check the store, while others take a look in the areas near by,” Rick decides. He paces in front of the fireplace. “Maggie, Carol, and Dale will take the lead on the Pete issue in the meantime. Once these things are done, we’ll worry about the walkers in the quarry and see if we can start relationships with The Kingdom and Hilltop. Sound good?”

         Everyone murmurs their agreement.

         Rick turns to Glenn. “Glenn, you, Andrea, and Tara are joining Aiden and Nicholas in looking for power supplies today, right?”

         “Yep,” Glenn says with a nod.

         “Then you can keep an eye out for any signs of Wolves while you’re there,” Rick tells him.

         “Sure.”

         It’s as everyone is getting ready to leave that Daryl remembers to warn Glenn. “Glenn, wait a sec.”

         Glenn turns and re-enters the living room. “What is it?”

         “Just wanted ya to know that you should be careful. Things are prob’ly gonna get fucked up on that run,” Daryl says, crossing his arms. “Don’t let Nicholas leave any of ya behind, an’ don’t go usin’ the revolvin’ door if ya gotta get out quick.”

         “Oh.” Glenn grimaces, likely imagining how bad things might have gone before. “Okay, yeah, thanks for the heads up.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl didn’t sleep anymore. Not since they’d arrived at Alexandria. Instead, he wanders quietly through the neighborhoods. Spring peepers chorus in the distance. Fireflies drift lazily over the grass. The half moon hangs high above his head, lighting his way and making the pond water sparkle.

         He thinks back to earlier that day, and how Glenn, Andrea, Tara, and Eugene made it back alive. Tara had been hurt like before, but she would recover, thankfully. Aiden had died again. Nicholas had tried to run away, but Andrea had shot him in the leg. Daryl sighs. He knows that won’t go over well with Deanna, especially since she’s grieving Aiden.

         Everything is going well, all things considered though. Already everyone seems to be fitting in. Even _Merle_. He, Tyreese, and Abraham work gathering materials for the walls, and sometimes Merle even gets guard duty. Bob and Denise are currently working along side Pete, though it’s clear neither really like him. Hershel started planning a farm with Deanna’s approval, Andrea and Shane joined Rosita and Sasha as the main guards at the walls, Amy took up teaching the kids, and T-Dog has agreed to help with supply runs. Carl, Sophia, and Beth are getting along with the other teens and younger members of the community. Daryl should be happy. Should be able to sleep. But he’s not and he can’t.

         Daryl stops in front of a manhole cover. The one they’d used to hide from Negan. The one Carl had… He crouches down and hauls the cover off. Maybe it’s paranoid, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Daryl drops down into the sewer. He pulls out his hunting knife and stalks quietly down the tunnel.

         Snarling from up ahead catches Daryl’s attention. He peers around a corner and sees the shadow of a walker ambling away from him. Further up, he notices more movement in the blackness. Quietly, Daryl slinks up behind the walker and stabs it in the head. It drops into the muck with a faint splash. The other walkers don’t seem to notice.

         Daryl downs another before the other two notice. He grunts as he smacks his back into a wall, trying to dodge the snapping jaws of a bloated walker. Daryl ducks, kicking it’s rotting legs out from under it, and stabs it in the head.

         The female walker snarls and tackles him to the ground. “Shit!” Daryl rolls to the side. It grabs his leg and yanks him back. Daryl stomps at its face, misses, tries to shake it loose, but the walker persists. It chomps down on his leg, the denim of his pants the only thing keeping it from doing damage. Daryl swears again, but this time manages to jam his knife through an empty eye socket and into it’s brain.

         He pries the walker’s jaws loose and gets up. Daryl grimaces, his leg stinging. The asshole might not have gotten through to his skin, but it still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He checks the rest of the tunnels, and once he’s satisfied that they’re clear, he climbs back to the surface.

         Daryl trudges back towards the house he and Merle share. He supposes he should take a shower. Even he didn’t want to go around smelling like actual shit.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “You sure we shouldn’t just ask to get him banished?” Rick asks, looking over at Deanna’s house. “I don’t know how well keeping him locked up will work. And how long could we even keep it up here?”

         Daryl dips his head in a nod. “If Pete’s out there, who knows what’ll happen. What if Negan’s men find ‘im? He could tell ‘em ‘bout this place.”

         Rick rests his hands on his hips. “Even if his kids could get killed?”

         “Negan can be...persuasive,” Daryl replies. He bites a little too hard at his thumbnail. The echo of _Easy Street_ plays in the back of his mind. Daryl crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits. Pete wouldn’t last a minute, if he even put up a fight at all.

         Daryl feels an invisible weight on him. He looks up through his hair to see Rick watching him with furrowed brows, his lips drawn into a thin, straight line.

         “Jail it is,” Rick says. “Even if it’s temporary. It’ll give us time to decide what to really do with him.” His expression softens and his eyes warm. Then he walks off to find Maggie.

 

         Daryl isn’t sure whether he’s surprised or not that Deanna actually agrees to lock Pete up in one of the abandoned houses. He’s glad, that’s for sure, so he won’t question it. Still, she seems a little cold to them all. Not that he can really blame her.

         Aaron is waiting for him by the gates. He had found Daryl earlier, saying he wanted to go and look for other people today.

         “There’s a few areas we haven’t been to yet that I’d like to check out,” Aaron tells him as Daryl mounts his bike.

         “’kay,” Daryl agrees. He eyes Aaron’s bag. “You got them pictures with ya?”

         “Of course.” Aaron opens the bag and pulls them out. “I took better ones this time. And even included and few people.”

         Daryl’s hands flex on the handlebars. “Should leave those behind.”

         Aaron raises an eyebrow. “Why? I know I’ll never be a great photographer, but I think they get the idea across.”

         “Ain’t ‘cause of that.” Daryl huffs through his nose. “What if ya drop ‘em? Someone could find ‘em. Someone who ain’t friendly.”

         “Ah.” Aaron runs his fingers back through his hair. “I see your point, Daryl. But I won’t drop them. They’re safe in the pack.”

         Daryl doesn’t want to argue, but he also doesn’t want shit to go wrong either. “Safe until a walker or somethin’ rips it open in a fight.”

         Aaron nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “True. Just, how else will we convince people Alexandria is safe?”

         Daryl scratches at his chin. “Just gotta hope fer the best. ‘sides, it ain’t as though we look starved or dirty.” He frowns at his hands. “Well, you don’t.” Daryl sighs. “We can convince people without ‘em.”

         “I guess we can try,” Aaron finally agrees. “Just give me a sec to put them away then.”

 

         Having lost track of the red poncho man, Daryl once again finds himself in front of the store with Aaron. _Crap_. “Looks like we lost ‘im.”

         Aaron hums, indicating he heard, as he looks through the chain-link fence. “For now. But hey, we found this.” He smiles at Daryl “There might be stuff in there we can bring back.”

         “I dunno ‘bout this,” Daryl says, glaring at the trailers.

         “It’s good to be cautious, but sometimes we have to take risks.” Aaron pats his back once before looking for an opening in the fence.

_Double crap_. Daryl can sense the determination in Aaron. That they can at least return with supplies if they couldn’t return with people. “Fine, just, let’s get rid of these rottin’ fucks first.” He smacks at the fence, luring the walkers over and stabbing them in the head.

         “Good idea,” Aaron says, brows raised. “I’ll have to remember that.”

         They find a way into the parking lot and Daryl follows Aaron over to the trucks.

         “There’s gotta be food in there.” Aaron climbs up onto the loading dock. He looks around for signs of anyone else before going for the latch.

         Daryl grabs his wrist. “Don’t.” He gestures for Aaron to step back and then steps in front of the trailer himself. “Always gotta check first.” Daryl bangs on the trailer.

         Immediately growls and hacking snarls erupt from the trailer. It shakes a little as the walkers inside smack against the walls, trying to get out.

         “Shit,” Aaron mutters. He goes to one of the other trailers and knocks on it, getting the same reaction. “How did they all get in there?”

         Daryl shakes his head. “Don’t matter. Seems like a trap to me. Ain’t no point in lookin’ ‘round more. If someone put ‘em in there, prob’ly won’t be anything left here for us.”

         Aaron, though clearly disappointed, agrees.


	15. Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No it's not a dream, I have actually uploaded another chapter only a few days after the other! Shocking, I know. :P  
> Enjoy!

         “And what exactly is the evidence you have of there being another group out there?” Deanna asks, eyes flicking from Maggie, to Rick, to Daryl, then back to Maggie. “Let alone that they’d be a danger to us?”

         Daryl sees Rick nod at him, so he speaks up. “Me an’ Aaron found trailers full of walkers. An’ not like they’d just wandered in and got stuck. They’d been put in there. We also found walkers with a W carved into their foreheads,” he says.

         “Those definitely aren’t things normal people would do,” Rick adds.

         Spencer, who’s been leaning against the archway to the kitchen, snorts. “It sounds made up,” he scoffs. “How do we know that, if there _is_ actually a group out there, that you aren’t part of it? That you didn’t get here first to trick us into a false sense of security?”

         Deanna shoots him a look.

         “I can promise that isn’t the case,” Maggie tells them. She steps closer to Deanna and Spencer. “I know we haven’t been here long, an’ things haven’t exactly gone well, but we care about this community.” Her brows are drawn together in a determined frown. “We aren’t sayin’ to do anythin’ crazy. We just think that some of us should go out an’ make sure that Alexandria remains a safe haven for good people.”

         Deanna nods thoughtfully. “I see what you’re saying,” she says, turning to face the windows, hands clasped behind her back.

         “Mom...” Spencer crosses his arms.

         “I’ll allow it. But only a couple of people at a time until we know if we’re really dealing with a dangerous group. I want reports of whatever you find, if you do find anything,” Deanna allows, ignoring her son. She nods again, this time to herself, and she looks at Maggie. “You can decided which people will go out and deal with this potential problem.” She tilts her head a little. “And I think that, in the meantime, I’ll discuss with Reg about how we should reinforce the walls while we expand.”

         “Thank you,” Maggie says with a relieved smile.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl steps through the bushes and approaches the edge of the cliff. “This is what I was tryin’ to tell ya ‘bout,” he says, pointing into the quarry.

         Rick stops beside him and looks down. His eyes widen and his body tenses. “That’s… _Shit_.” His eyes rove over the hundreds of walkers shuffling around in the quarry. A mass has gathered by the trucks blocking them from the road out.

         Daryl nods. “Those trucks ain’t gonna hold much longer. The walkers got out as we were doin’ a run-through of our plan to get ‘em out,” he explains. “We blocked off the road to Alexandria and led ‘em down another road away from us. It woulda worked if the Wolves hadn’t attacked.”

         Rick points at a truck perched precariously on a ledge. “I’m guessing that’s what falls first?”

         “Yep.” Daryl turns away from the quarry. “I think we should go to the store again and track the Wolves from there. This’ll have to wait fer a little longer.”

         “Sounds good,” Rick replies. He smiles. “You’re the tracker. You haven’t led us wrong yet.”

         Daryl feels a heat creeping up his neck and ducks his head. “I’ll try to keep that up then.”

 

         The store had been visited recently. Daryl didn’t need to be a hunter to know that. The corpses of the walkers had been removed from in front of the fence and more “living” walkers had been let into the parking lot.

         “They’ve been back here,” Daryl tells Rick.

         Rick looks around, frowning. “Then maybe we should set up an ambush. If they came back a second time, they’re likely to show up again.”

         Daryl gives a non-committal grunt. He sees a bright spot of blood on the fence and pokes at it. Fresh. Hopefully human. It certainly didn’t belong to a walker. There’s more blood drops heading away from the fence. Daryl glances back at Rick, nods, and follows the trail.

         “Daryl, have you been sleeping?” Rick asks a few minutes later.

         Daryl tenses. “Why?”

         Rick stops him in his tracks. “You have circles under your eyes. And you’ve been testier than normal.” His tone is teasing, but his eyes show how worried he is.

         “’m fine,” Daryl mutters, looking away. It wasn’t Rick’s problem, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it anyway. Daryl knew he just had to get over it. This wasn’t the same timeline, things would be okay.

         “...If you say so.”

 

         Unfortunately, the trail goes cold about a mile away. Either the Wolf had stopped the bleeding or they started covering their tracks. Whatever the reason, Daryl couldn’t see any other signs. No broken twigs, no footprints, nothing. His hands clenched into fists. One of the few things he was good at, and he’d failed.

         Rick’s hand squeezes his arm. “Hey, it’s okay.” He ducks his head to catch Daryl’s eyes. “Like I said, we know they could go back to that store again, so that’s something we can plan for.”

         Daryl sighs quietly. “Yeah. I get it. Just hoped we could get it over with quick.”

         “Me too, but that doesn’t mean you need to be upset about it,” Rick assures, his hand brushing Daryl’s back as he drops it back to his side.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “Gotta admit, baby brother, this place is _nice_ ,” Merle sighs, slouching in his chair on the porch. “Too nice fer us, but I can live with that.” He chuckles.

         Daryl, perched on the railing, nods. It’s honestly a surprise how well Merle’s been behaving. Oh there have been complaints from others here and there, but considering how he _had_ been, Daryl is impressed.

         “Can’t believe we gotta live across from Aaron an’ his cocksucker, though,” Merle grumbles.

         Impressed until Merle lets some ignorant bullshit like that loose. Daryl glares at him. “Can you stop that?”

         Merle flips him off. “Why? Ain’t said shit to ‘em. I can say what I want when I’m in my own damn home.”

         “Don’t matter. It ain’t right.” Daryl knows he should probably back off. Merle will always be Merle, as annoying as that is.

         “You’re gettin’ awfully defensive there, Darlina. Got somethin’ to tell me?” Merle sneers, sitting up straight.

         Daryl sees the dangerous glint in his brother’s eyes. “No. Fuck off.”

         Merle juts his chin, watching him for a few more moments before nodding and relaxing again. “Good.”

         Daryl stands and slinks from the porch.

         “Where the hell’re you goin’?” Merle shouts after him.

         Daryl ignores him. He wishes he could stay with Rick, Carl, and Judith again. But leaving Merle to his own devices would be...unwise; even if he isn’t prone to punching anyone and everyone who looks at him wrong any more.

         Movement at Rick’s house catches Daryl’s eye. Shane approaches the front door and knocks. Not getting a response, he tries the doorknob. The door swings open and Shane disappears inside.

         Alarm bells go off in Daryl’s head. He climbs the front steps and slips quietly inside. Shane stands over Judith’s crib in the living room, looking down at her. After a moment he picks her up.

         “Hey there, darlin’,” Shane whispers.

         Judith whines and blinks up at him.

         “I know, you don’t know me really.” Shane bounces her lightly, trying to calm her. “That’s Rick’s fault. Not lettin’ you get to know your real daddy.”

         And that’s all Daryl needs to hear. He stomps into the living room. “The hell you doin’?”

         Shane hide his surprise well, and he gives that sleazy smile of his. “Nothin’. Just visiting Judy.”

         Judy spots Daryl and reaches out for him, her eyes lighting up. “Ah!”

         Though clearly annoyed, Shane lets Daryl take her from him.

         “You ain’t supposed to visit her alone,” Daryl growls, tucking Judy close. “You know that.”

         “Carol’s watchin’ her with a baby monitor, right? That means I’m not visiting her alone,” Shane counters. He places his hands on his hips and squares his shoulders. “Besides, it’s none of your business, Dixon.”

         Daryl’s lip curls. “It is my business, Walsh.” He pets at Judy’s growing blonde curls when she whimpers at his tone. “If you leave now, I won’t say shit to Rick. But if you try anythin’ again...” He lets the threat hang in the air between them.

         Shane sneers and heads for the door. “You’d best watch your back. You and your brother are expendable. Remember that.” He slams the door behind him.

         Daryl bites his lip and glares at the floor. However, he can’t stay annoyed when Judy pats at his face with her chubby little hand. “Sorry ‘bout all that,” Daryl says. He kisses her forehead and places her back in her crib. “Don’t worry. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen to you.”

         Once she’s settled and has her stuffed elephant, Daryl leaves the house. As he leaves he spots Beth walking one of the neighbors dogs a little ways down the road. “Beth!” he calls.

         Beth slows and turns. Seeing Daryl approaching, she smiles and waves. “Hey!”

         Daryl gives a tiny smile in return. But just as quick, his expression becomes serious once again. “Can I ask a favor of ya?”

         Beth shrugs. “Depends on what it is.”

         “I need ya to keep an eye on Shane. Don’t have to go outta yer way or nothin’, just...” Daryl chews on his bottom lip. “He was tryin’ to see Judy alone.”

         “Oh.” Beth frowns and nods. “I’ll keep an eye out. Don’t worry.”

         Daryl relaxes. “Thanks.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl has to admit he’s a little surprised when Carl and Sophia approach him the next day.

         “You said you’d teach us how to use a crossbow when we were bigger,” Carl says, not bothering to even say ‘hi’ first.

         Sophia nods, her short, strawberry blonde hair shaking about. Carol had gotten Jesse to cut it not long after arriving in Alexandria, and now it wasn’t much longer than Carol’s had been back in Atlanta. It suited her, though, now that she was older. “Well, you said you’d teach _me_.”

         Carl shrugs. “Yeah, but I also wanted to learn, so why not both of us?”

         Daryl can’t say they aren’t big enough yet; heck, Sophia has grown like a damn weed and is taller than Carl. “An’ just where do ya think I’ll be able to teach ya how to use it? Deanna won’t allow it inside the walls,” Daryl says, crossing his arms. “An’ outside the walls ain’t safe.”

         Sophia tilts her head. “Carl and Enid go out all the time.”

         “Sophia!” Carl looks betrayed.

         “It’s true,” she retorts. Sophia looks up at Daryl. “And with you with us we’ll be fine.” She smiles sweetly.

         Daryl hates how well that works against him. He sighs. “Fine. But not too far out.” It can’t be a great idea, but if Carl was already escaping the walls then it’d be better if they were out there with an adult. Still, he has them stop by the armory to check out pistols before they head out.

         The three stop by the rundown house where Daryl had met up with Rick and Carol. It was a reasonable distance away and had lots of things they could use as targets. He sets up a few marks on a tree and some boxes. “Alright. Since Sophia has some experience with a bow an’ arrow, I think you should try first,” Daryl says, swinging his bow off his back.

         Carl shrugs. “Ladies first, I guess.”

         Daryl smirks. “Exactly.” He helps Sophia hold the crossbow properly and holds out a bolt. When she takes it, he points out how to set it up and position everything so as not to knock her on her ass after firing. “It’s gonna be difficult, but so long as ya listen you shouldn’t get hurt.”

         Sophia nods and raises the crossbow. Aiming carefully at a box she presses the trigger. The bolt launches from the bow and whizzes past the box. “Aw.”

         Daryl retrieves the bolt and hands it back to her. “’s fine. It’s only yer first shot. Try again.”

         Brows furrowed and lips quirked into a determined frown, Sophia tries again. The bolt pierces the box with a loud _thwack_. “I did it!” Sophia crows, jumping up and down.

         “Nice job,” Daryl praises, ruffling her hair. He grins at her pout and gestures at the bolt. “Go get it. If yer gonna use somethin’ like this, you gotta make sure not to forget yer bolts after. Pain in the ass to keep makin’ ‘em.”

         Sophia nods and gets the bolt back. “You try now, Carl,” she says, holding the crossbow out to him.

         Trying not to look too eager, Carl takes it and the bolt from her. He raises the crossbow, and adjusts his stance and lifts his elbows when Daryl pushes them up. Carl shoots. The bolt only just makes it to the box. “Yeah!” He smirks at Sophia. “Did it on the first try.”

         Sophia rolls her eyes. “Barely.” Carl sticks his tongue out at her and she smacks his arm.

         Daryl huffs a laugh. “Don’t get cocky. Try hittin’ the tree.”

         Carl nods, puffing himself up proudly. He aims and fires. The bolt lands in the leaves below the tree.

         “It was beginners luck, then,” Sophia giggles.

         Carl flips her off—ignoring Daryl’s grunt of disapproval—and goes to get the bolt.

         It’s as Sophia goes to take her turn at hitting the tree that Daryl feels a sense of dread creeping up his spine. They’re being watched. He grabs the crossbow from Sophia and holds it at the ready. “I know yer out there!”

         “Wow, impressive.” A lanky man with long, greasy, black hair steps out of the forest, gun in hand. He’s followed by a band of dirty men and women with W’s painted on their foreheads. “I mean that. I thought we were being quiet.”

         Daryl steps in front of Carl and Sophia. “How’d you find us?”

         The man, the leader of the Wolves, tilts his head. With his big brown eyes and innocently upturned eyebrows, he had a very puppy-like quality to him. “We followed you.” His wide mouth stretches into a grin, showing off yellowed teeth. “It wasn’t very hard, what with you and your people wandering all over our territory.”

         “C’mon, Owen, let’s just kill ‘em,” one of the others begs.

         Owen holds up a finger. “Not yet.” He approaches slowly, casually. “You seem smart, so I’m guessing your camp isn’t far from here,” Own drawls. He laughs once. “Especially if your bringing young ones out like this.”

         “Go away! Daryl can kill all of you no problem!” Sophia shouts.

         Daryl doesn’t look back, but he twitches his hand, indicating for them to start walking backwards. “There’s a lot of us. More than you. It won’t go well if you attack us.”

         Owen shrugs. “Maybe.” His grin never falters. “But we’ll still kill most of you. The kids too.” His tone is matter-of-fact. “You can’t save everyone.”

         “That’s what you think,” Daryl growls, keeping himself between the Wolves and Carl and Sophia.

         “No, it’s not what I think. It’s what I know,” Owen replies serenely. Three Wolves lunge and Daryl shoots one. He hears a gun go off behind him, but he doesn’t know who shot. They miss, though, and Daryl is tackled to the ground. “Carl! Sophia! _Run!_ ”

         Owen saunters over and crouches in front of Daryl. He tilts his head and looks Daryl in the eye. “That was stupid,” he remarks. “But we’ll get them later.” Owen smiles that deceptively friendly smile of his. “You know, you could join us. And you should really consider that offer, because we don’t make it to everyone. But _you’d_ fit in.”

         Daryl struggles against the hold the Wolves have on him in vain. Besides, if he keeps them occupied, Carl and Sophia will have a chance to escape. “Fuck you!” Daryl spits in Owen’s eye.

         Owen flinches and wipes at his eye. “That’s very rude,” he pouts. Owen sighs and shakes his head. “Have it your way.”

         Pain jolts through Daryl’s body. The Wolves drop him and he lands in the dirt, one knife sticking out of his side, and another in his shoulder.

         “You’ll turn quick, I bet,” Owen says, patting him on the cheek. He stands and gestures for his people to follow him. “Let’s go. We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”


	16. Small Victories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! I always appreciate them. :)

         The world blurs in and out of focus. Daryl smacks into a tree, the pain jolting him properly awake. But only for a short time. He staggers towards Alexandria, he thinks, warm blood soaking through his shirt and staining his hand where it pressed into his side. His feet stop moving and the ground rushes up to meet him.

         Rustling in the distance reaches his ears, but Daryl can’t move. Hands grab at him and he tries to make his arms work but nothing happens. Everything goes dark.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Daryl wade_ _s_ _waist deep in a river of blood. The sounds of sloshing behind him quickens, and panic swells in his chest. An owl screeches above him, but he can’t see it. Daryl’s breath is lodged in his throat, he’s moving so slow; why can’t he run faster?_

_A black mountain looms in front of him. Daryl reaches out bloody hands and takes hold of the base. He hauls himself up, and up, and up. The top never seems any closer but the bottom is so far away. Rocks cut into his hands and arms. He knows he’s still being chased._

_The rocks soften. They grip back. A hand grabs his ankle, his arms, snatches at his clothes. Daryl cries out as he realizes he’s climbing a mountain of bodies. His hands slip and the writhing mass of corpses push him off. He falls._

 

         Daryl’s eyes snap open and he gasps.

         “Whoa! Stop, breathe,” soothes a familiar voice.

         “Is he awake?” asks another.

         “Yeah, think so.”

         Daryl takes deep breaths, trying to orientate himself. As his mind calms, he realizes he’s in the makeshift hospital in Alexandria. Bob and Denise are looking down at him with concerned frowns. “The hell happened?”

         “Rick brought you in. You were in an out of consciousness for an hour,” Bob explains. “With a little rest and the medicine we have here, you’ll be fine in no time though.”

         “If we don’t all die first,” Denise sighs.

         Daryl sits up, ignoring the pain in his side and shoulder. “Gotta get out there. We’re in danger.”

         “Hey now, you have to rest,” Bob insists, trying to block Daryl from getting up. “It was a bit of a surprise, but Rick and the others are holding those crazy people off.”

         Daryl shakes his head and pushes past Bob. “Where’re Sophia an’ Carl? Are they okay?”

         “I don’t know. We haven’t seen them,” Bob says.

         That’s not good. Panic sweeps through him, but he pushes it down. He needs a weapon. “An’ my crossbow?” Daryl asks.

         Denise frowns. “You didn’t have it on you when you were brought in.”

         “Course not,” Daryl mutters. “Any guns in here?”

         “Why would there—”

         “Yeah, one second.” Bob pulls a pistol out of a drawer in one of the desks. At Denise’s shocked look he shrugs. “Carol thought it’d be a good idea to have one. Just in case.”

         Without asking, Daryl snatches the gun and throws open a window. It’s barely controlled chaos outside. His people and the Wolves are fighting everywhere. Daryl sees one Wolf advancing on Andrea. He pulls the trigger and the Wolf collapses. Andrea looks up, eyes wide. Seeing Daryl, she nods and races off.

         Bob whistles, impressed. “Nice one.”

         Daryl ignores him and looks for another Wolf. He shoots, a Wolf falls. Daryl takes aim again. A Wolf runs into his line of vision, axe swinging towards T-Dog, when both Merle and Michonne attack. They acknowledge each other and hurry in opposite directions.

_Wish I had that damn RPG launcher,_ Dark thinks, taking down a female Wolf who’d been trying to sneak up on the building. He wants to go out there and fight properly, but the fact his wounds were already sending sharp pains through his body let him him know it would end badly. Daryl would just have to do his best from up here.

 

         Daryl isn’t sure how much time has passed, but it feels like forever by the time the Wolves have been killed and chased off. He slumps to the floor, hand against his side, and thumps his head back against the wall. “Fuck.”

         Bob holds out a hand. “Come on, you should be in bed still.”

         Daryl squints at him for a moment before accepting the help. “Thanks, but I ain’t goin’ back to bed.”

         The door swings open, banging against the wall, stopping Bob from making a reply.

         “Daryl.” Rick hurries into the room. He sounded both angry and worried. “What are you doing?”

         Daryl blinks. “Helpin’.” He can’t help but sound defensive, even a little annoyed. Just because he was hurt didn’t mean he couldn’t still do his part when shit hit the fan.

         Rick shakes his head. “You should be resting. You were _stabbed!_ ”

         “We tried telling him that before. He didn’t listen,” Denise tells him.

         “Daryl,” Rick says again, reproachful. When Daryl merely scowls, he sighs. “First you go outside the walls with Carl and Sophia, and then you do this?”

         Daryl ducks his head. Well now he feels like shit. More than usual, anyway. “I was fixin’ that mistake.” He chews his bottom lip. “They okay?”

         Rick runs his fingers through his hair, the anger draining. “Yeah. Yeah, they’re fine.” He steps closer and his voice is a little softer. “Don’t do that again.”

         Daryl looks up at him. “They wanted to learn how to shoot a crossbow. Didn’t want ‘em goin’ out on their own an’ gettin’ hurt. They _need_ to know how to fight so they won’t...” He looks away. “Shoulda done better, though.” Daryl shuffles closer, head down. “’m sorry.”

         Rick pulls Daryl into a hug. “Don’t, just… I get it. And I know I can trust you to keep them safe. I was just worried.”

         Daryl feels Rick’s fingers brush through the back of his hair and he closes his eyes. Ever since Rick had hugged him that first time, after his escape from Negan, he’d missed the feeling. Daryl knows he’s pathetic for that, which is why he’ll never say anything and take what he can get.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl learns later that, along with some of the previous residents of Alexandria, Amy was killed. Guilt churns in his stomach. If he hadn’t left with Carl and Sophia, Amy would still be alive and Andrea wouldn’t be in so much pain. _Again._

         One good thing so far is that it hadn’t taken more than a couple of days for Daryl’s wounds to stop giving him much trouble. He’d always been a fast healer. And while he’d agreed not to do anything crazy yet, Daryl is allowed to leave Alexandria as long as he goes with someone else.

         Daryl does wonder if leading the walkers out of the quarry and away from Alexandria counts as “doing something crazy” or not. It’s not as though he’s straining himself. Quite the opposite, actually. Daryl looks over at the little red car Abraham and Sasha are driving in. He’s glad Sasha is doing much better this time. He glances in the mirrors of his bike to see the horde of walkers shambling along behind them. Daryl has a good feeling about this.

         Abraham rolls the window down. “You alright out there?” he shouts.

         “Yep,” Daryl replies, as he had the last several times Abraham has checked up on him. On the one hand, it’s annoying as all hell; he’s not some pansy that can’t take care of himself. On the other hand, he can’t help but be a little happy that people care about his well being. But only a little.

         Until he remembers something crucial.

         Daryl grit his teeth. How in the hell had he forgotten? “Abe!”

         “What?”

         “Once we get these walkers gone, we should come back this way, instead of goin’ around like we planned,” Daryl says.

         “The hell would we do that for?” Abraham frowns. “We _stick_ to the _plan_. It’s when people start dickin’ around that shit hits the fan!”

         Sasha gives Daryl a look. She can tell Daryl’s sudden desire to change the plan is because of what he knows. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just change this little thing?” she asks Abraham.

         Abraham snorts. “We didn’t get this far by doin’ whatever the hell we wanted, when we wanted. I’m already screwin’ with the plan to get to Washington—and that just makes my skin crawl—but this is a good cause. No, we’re doin’ this the way we were told to do it.”

         Daryl wants to argue, but he doesn’t know what he’d say. He can’t tell them Saviors might show up and try to gun them down, so to them there’s no reason to worry. Daryl slows and drops back towards the walkers, pressing the button on his walkie. “Rick!”

         “Daryl? Everythin’ okay?” Rick’s voice crackles through the walkie.

         “Not really,” Daryl replies. “Just remembered there might be Saviors at the 20 mile mark.”

         “Saviors?”

         “Negan’s men. That’s what he calls his group.” Daryl speeds up a little, keeping ahead of some of the more determined walkers. “They shot at us before, got me an’ Abraham an’ Sasha separated.” A light bulb goes off in Daryl’s head. “An’ they found an RPG launcher! Never mind, we’ll keep goin’ the way we planned. If we can stick together I’ll try to pick that up on the way back. It’ll be useful against Negan.”

         There was silence and Daryl wondered if Rick had heard. Then, “Alright. Just...be careful. If it looks like things are gonna go sideways, get out. Launcher or not.”

         Daryl’s lips twitch into an involuntary smile. “Got it.”

 

         Abraham and Daryl keep a hold on the ends of the fence where it’s bent over the side of the bridge. Sasha, being lighter than both, crawls over it towards the walker impaled on the end. It growls and swipes at her.

         “This better be worth it,” she mutters, grip tightening on her machete.

         “Oh, I can think of several ways that beauty will be worth it,” Abraham chuckles.

         Sasha rolls her eyes, amusement quirking her lips into a smirk. She watches the walker thrash before lunging forward, striking like a snake, and burying her machete in the walker’s skull. It goes slack and she pulls the machete out. “Okay, now to get the launcher...”

         Daryl tenses as she reaches out to grab the strap and tugs. And tugs again. Frustrated, Sasha yanks at the launcher and the walker’s shoulder gives. Daryl leaps out onto the fence to grab her by the wrist before she can fall with it over the side of the bridge.

         “I’m okay! I’m okay. Thanks, Daryl,” Sasha says, letting him drag her off the fence, launcher in hand. She’s grinning brightly despite almost falling to her death.

         Abraham claps her on the back and looks to Daryl. “See? We wouldn’t have found that if we hadn’t followed the plan.”

         Daryl refrains from rolling his eyes and grunts. “Let’s go. Don’t wanna be out here longer than we need to.”

 

         It was nice to be able to speed along the open road again, now that Daryl didn’t have to worry about luring walkers along behind him. Still, he didn’t go as fast as he normally would have. He didn’t want to be too far ahead of Abraham and Sasha if things went wrong.

         Daryl starts up the walkie again. “Rick, ya there?”

         “Yeah, I’m here,” Rick replies a few seconds later. “Is everything goin’ alright?”

         “Uh-huh. How ‘bout on yer end? No surprises?”

         “Not yet.”

         “Good.” Daryl weaves around a dead walker. “We got the launcher and haven’t had any trouble yet. But before we ran into Saviors in this area. I think we might be…ahead of schedule? Whatever, point is, we might run into ‘em again, might not. If we ain’t back in an hour, we prob’ly got held up by ‘em.”

         Rick gives a quiet hum of acknowledgment. “Right. Then if it takes that long, we’ll come get you guys.”

         “Nah, too dangerous,” Daryl protests.

         “That wasn’t a suggestion. If it gets too late, we’re coming,” Rick says, voice stern.

         Daryl shakes his head, but knows there’s no arguing with that tone. “Fine. But I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

 

         The sun has just set in the sky when Daryl hears the roar of multiple motorcycles behind them. Swearing, he slows until he’s right by the car. “Get me the launcher!”

         Abraham glances in the rear-view mirror. He looks about to ask questions, but something in Daryl’s voice must have made him reconsider, because he reaches into the backseat and passes the RPG launcher to him.

         “Keep drivin’. I got this,” Daryl tells them.

         “You sure?” Sasha asks, frowning a little.

         Daryl nods and they speed up. He slows to a stop and turns in his seat, bringing the launcher up so he can aim it properly. The gang of motorcycles start closing in, and he can see that they’re the Saviors from before. Daryl smirks and pulls the trigger. The Saviors go up in flames.

         Once the smoke clears, Daryl turns his bike around and checks the remains. Nothing is left but pieces of metal and chunks of meat. _Good._

 


	17. Guilt

         Michonne pulls Daryl aside when he, Abraham, and Sasha finally get back. “Daryl, we need to talk.”

         “About what?” Daryl asks, folding his arms over his chest. She doesn’t seem mad about anything, but it doesn’t mean the talk will be good. He didn’t think he’d done anything to bother her though.

         “Rick told me. Earlier. He explained that you’re…from the future. He said he thought I should know,” Michonne says, her head tilts a little. “I want to believe him, because I know Rick isn’t crazy but, well, it _sounds_ crazy. It also makes a lot of sense.”

         Daryl lets out a breath of relief. Nothing bad had happened. This was something he could deal with. “Yeah. It’s true. Not exactly sure how I can prove it to ya at this point though,” he replies. “But you said it made sense?”

         Michonne nods. “Back at the prison, you guys trusted me way too easily. Not that I don’t appreciate that,” she laughs, “but it was strange. Also it would explain how you knew about Alexandria.” She props a hand on one hip. “I have to say, I didn’t really believe the whole map excuse—though since it lead us here I didn’t question it much.”

         “Couldn’t really think of how else to explain it,” Daryl mutters. He chews on his bottom lip. “So, uh, is there somethin’ you wanted to know then?”

         “Oh, I’m curious about a lot of things,” Michonne says with a smile, bumping her shoulder against Daryl’s playfully and getting a smile in return. “Like what else are we gonna have to deal with besides a crazy group that call themselves Saviors? But Rick told me you and the others that know have meetings every once and a while, so I’ll get caught up then.”

         Daryl shrugs. “We’ll prob’ly need to do another meetin’ soon. We gotta figure out how to get in contact with the other communities without gettin’ ourselves killed.”

         Michonne huffs a laugh. “Sounds like fun.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl is almost surprised to see Glenn at the meeting. He still seems shaken, clutching Maggie’s hand in both of his. Not that Daryl can blame him. Nicholas had tried to push Glenn into a horde of walkers as they made their way back to Alexandria. He wasn’t really a fighter, though, and Glenn had easily turned the tables, causing Nicholas to fall off the dumpster instead. Daryl can’t say he’s even the least bit sad about that.

         “Another meeting so soon? Alright, so what are we discussing this time?” Dale asks, interrupting Daryl’s musings.

         Everyone looks to Daryl, and it takes everything in him not to squirm. “Well, uh, now that we ain’t gotta worry ‘bout the Wolves or walkers in the quarry, we should get to findin’ the other communities,” Daryl starts. “The Kingdom’ll be the easiest, it ain’t that hard to ‘accidentally’ come across it. It’s Hilltop we gotta be careful with.” Daryl’s fingers twitch at his sides; he’ll never get used to talking in front of a group. “To get there, we gotta first find a guy who calls himself Jesus.”

         Sasha snorts. “I’m sorry, _Jesus?_ ”

         Daryl rolls his eyes. “I didn’t come up with it. His name’s Paul, but everyone calls ‘im Jesus.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, last time Rick an’ me found ‘im by mistake. We were tryin’ to get a truck full of supplies back here and he stole it. Ended up losing the truck, but we knockied ‘im out an’ brought ‘im back here. He told us about Hilltop an’ how its leader might trade with us.”

         “So why not just do that again?” Michonne asks.

         “Don’t know if it’ll work again. Might not be there when we go. Some things’ve been different this time an’ I don’t know if it’s ‘cause we got here sooner than before or...somethin’ else,” Daryl replies with a shrug. “We can try it like last time, but if it doesn’t work, we’ll have to have a back up plan.”

         Rick nods. “If we can’t find this Jesus guy like before, we know where Hilltop is, so we can pretend to be looking for supplies nearer to their territory.” He looks at Daryl and smiles. “And this time hopefully we won’t lose the truck of supplies.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with Rick’s choice in music as they rumbled down the road. Sure, it still sucked ass, but it was familiar. He smiled, leaning his head against the window.

         “So, what’s the plan here?” Rick asks, tapping his hands against the steering-wheel in time to the beat of the song.

         “We found the truck no problem, it was when we went an’ looked ‘round at a gas station that he showed up. He set off some firecrackers in the back to distract us before, so we can’t get fooled by that again,” Daryl says, stretching his legs against the dashboard. “So long as we don’t let ‘im get the truck, we should be fine.”

         Rick nods. “Sounds easy enough.” He watches Daryl out of the corners of his eyes.

         Daryl snorts. “He’s a tricky bastard. I wouldn’t bet on it.”

         “Then why are we trusting him?” Rick looks over at him, arching an eyebrow. “So far everything you’ve said about him has been pretty negative.”

         “He’s a good guy, just kind of a dick at first. Not like he knew who we were,” Daryl replies, stretching a little before settling again and chewing on his thumbnail. “Also knows kung-fu or some shit. He’s good to have on our side.”

         Rick chuckles. “Good to know.”

 

         They parked the sorghum truck at the gas station and got out.

         “If Jesus shows up today, then it’ll be here?” Rick asks.

         “Yep,” Daryl replies, wandering over to the tipped over vending machine. “Maybe this time we can actually flip this piece of shit.” He kicks at it.

         “Might as well.”

         Daryl hooks it up to the truck and Rick drives it forward until it flips. Once he gets out, Daryl breaks the glass and pulls out a few orange sodas, candy bars, and chips and stuffs them into his bag. Except for one of the cans. Daryl pops it open and takes a swig before handing it to Rick.

         “How long should we wait?” Rick sits on the little rise by the pumps.

         Daryl shrugs as he settles beside him, one leg drawn up so he can rest his chin on his knee. “Don’t know. An hour maybe?”

         They sit like that for a while, passing the soda back and forth until it’s empty. A warm breeze rustles the leaves of the trees nearby. Everything is calm. Daryl feels a sense of contentment, maybe even happiness wash over him. It’s nice.

         Rick bumps his shoulder, getting his attention. “What’s it like, doing all this again?” He gives a general wave of the hand at the world around them.

         “Fuckin’ surreal,” Daryl snorts. That was the best he could describe it anyway. He plucks at the ties around his ankle, keeping his jeans tight against his boot. “Feels like it’ll disappear one day, an’ I’ll be back to before.” Daryl frowns at the ground. “Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if I should’ve found Michael again, had him try an’ send me back further so none of this woulda happened. But then I never woulda met ya, or any of the others.” His hands clench. “I know it’s selfish of me.”

         Rick shakes his head and places a hand on Daryl’s back. “That’s not on you, Daryl. You aren’t responsible for the world. Besides, even if you could go back to before walkers were a thing, how would you get people to believe you?”

         Daryl doesn’t respond. He’s not sure how to. The feeling of Rick’s hand on his back is nice though. Comforting.

         “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping? Because you’ve been beatin’ yourself up over not tryin’ to go back even further?” Rick asks softly.

         “Yes an’ no. There’re other reasons,” Daryl mutters. He hopes Rick will just leave it. be

         Rick nods. “I hate to ask, but what other reasons?”

         “If ya hate to ask, then don’t,” Daryl snaps. He grimaces and looks away.

         Rick shifts closer, just a bit. “You’ve never mentioned why you chose to come back. Or what the other me, or Carol, or anyone had to say about it. I’m guessing it has something to do with that?”

         Daryl doesn’t want to talk about it. Doesn’t want to even think about it. It hurts too much. “Rick...”

         “You came back to change things. Letting me know what happened could do that,” Rick insists.

         It’s a damn low blow, but Daryl relents. “ _Fine!_ ” He grips at his jeans. “Then you should know it all went to hell after Carl died.”

         Rick stiffens. “What?”

         “Carl died. Got bit by a walker, tryin’ to save a doctor, while we were out fightin’ Negan.” Daryl can’t look at Rick while he tells him this. If he does he won’t be able to go through with it. “B’fore he died he wrote letters to everyone. Includin’ Negan. Talkin’ ‘bout how he wanted everyone to stop fightin’. Wanted you an’ Negan to make up and get along or some _crap_. An’ you listened. Instead of killin’ the bastard when you could ya let ‘im live.” He sighs. “I don’t… I don’t blame ya, Rick. Ya wanted to listen to yer kid’s last wish.

         Maggie didn’t agree with it though. An’ at that point neither did I.” Daryl squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s _my_ fault. If I had talked her outta it… We wanted to kill Negan behind yer back. An’ just, shit went down an’…” His chest hurt. “A new group showed up while we were all fightin’ among ourselves. The Whisperers. They started attackin’ us. Ambushin’ us. When Aaron got bit and Ezekiel got killed, it was like the last straw fer Maggie. It was too much—the stress. She miscarried.” Daryl feels like he’s going to throw up. “The baby it, it _ate_ her. From the inside out.”

         Rick makes a horrified sound.

         “Didn’t even know ‘bout Carol missin’ neither. Not until we found her head on a fuckin’ spike outside the Whisperer’s camp.” Daryl’s hands are shaking, but he keeps going. “The Whisperers had a whole damn horde of walkers. Fuckin’ thousands of ‘em. An’ when we didn’t give up, they released ‘em on us.” Tears rush down his cheeks. “Michonne went down first, tryin’ to keep Judith safe. I tried to get to ‘em, but it happened too fast. Judith she...” Daryl shakes his head and looks at Rick. “You lost it. You ran into the horde an’ I couldn’t do nothin’. Just like that, everyone was dead. You were _all_ dead.”

         Rick, tears in his own eyes, pulls Daryl into his arms. “That’s...” He grips the back of Daryl’s hair as Daryl buries his face in his chest. “ _Fuck_. Daryl, I’m _sorry._ ”

         “E-every time I sleep, it’s—it’s all I see.” Daryl can’t stop shaking, even with Rick rubbing his back and petting his hair. This is why he didn’t want to talk about it. He knew he’d break down. Daryl could practically hear Merle jeering at him in his head.

         “It’s not your fault. You need to know that,” Rick says firmly.

         “If I had just—”

         “No.” Rick shifts back enough to look Daryl in the eye. “It is _not_ _your fault_. And you need to stop blaming yourself for it.” He gently swipes the back of his finger against Daryl’s cheek, wiping at the tears. “You went back in time—you’ve risked your life multiple times now—to stop all that from happening again! And you call yourself selfish.” Rick shakes his head. “Daryl, your one of the least selfish people I know. I don’t know what any of us would do without you.”

         Daryl blinks back more tears. He doesn’t deserve Rick’s praise and understanding; but he craves it. Daryl looks into Rick’s kind, storm blue eyes. Rick is being honest with him, he can see that. Daryl doesn’t know what to do with that though.

         Rick cups Daryl’s face in his hands. He leans closer, pauses, and then lets his lips brush against Daryl’s. It’s a soft thing. Gentle. Sweet. Rick almost pulls away, but Daryl pushes forward, kissing him back.

         Daryl has no idea what he’s doing. He’s never kissed anyone, and never been kissed by anyone. It’s overwhelming and it’s only a kiss. Daryl twists his fingers in the front of Rick’s shirt. A shudder races through his body as one of Rick’s hands drops to his waist, thumb rubbing at his hip soothingly.

_Wait, what am I doing?_ Daryl thinks.

         Rick frowns, confused, as Daryl backs off and stands. “Daryl?”

         Daryl shakes his head. He looks around, arms crossing over his chest. “He ain’t showin’ up. We should go.”

         “Daryl, I—”

         “Don’t.” Daryl heads for the truck. “Let’s just go.”

         The ride back is filled with awkward silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated saving the kiss for later, but honestly, it's been seventeen chapters and I figured I owed you guys a kiss ;)


	18. Hilltop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for your nice comments and kudos!! They make me so happy!

         Panic and guilt and confusion swirl together in Daryl’s stomach as he stalks through the neighborhood, his nightly ritual. _How could I let that happen?_ he berates himself. He’d enjoyed it, wanted it, and that was even worse. Especially because over the past couple of days it had been difficult to avoid Rick, and the looks the other kept sending him made his heart hurt.

         A door opens and a quiet voice calls out. “Daryl?” Daryl turns around and he sees Carol standing on her porch, a sky blue robe tied tightly around her, looking down at him. “What are you doing out there?” she asks, sounding concerned.

         Daryl chews on his bottom lip, unsure how to respond.

         Carol shakes her head. “Come inside.”

         “Huh?” Daryl frowns.

         “Come on,” Carol insists, gesturing for him to follow as she heads back inside.

         Daryl sighs and slips up the steps and into the house. He watches as Carol flicks on a couple of lamps and goes to pull out mugs from a cabinet.

         “Go sit,” Carol tells him. “I’m making hot chocolate, and you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

         “What makes ya think somethin’s botherin’ me?” Daryl asks, eyeing her couch.

         “I know you, Daryl,” was all the explanation Carol gave as she went about make the hot chocolate. It was all she really needed to say, honestly.

         They were both surprised by the sound of soft footsteps on the stairs. Sophia rounds the corner a moment later, looking tired and curious. “Mr. Daryl?”

         “Hon, did we wake you?” Carol asks, setting the timer on the microwave.

         Sophia shrugs. “It’s fine, mom. Just heard stuff and...wanted to be sure.”

         Daryl smiles a little to himself. He’s glad Sophia’s gotten brave, even after what happened with the Wolves. “Everythin’s fine. Yer momma an’ I are just havin’ a chat. You should go back to bed.”

         “I guess. If everything’s okay.” Sophia hugs her mom and then pads across the floor to wrap her arms around Daryl, her chin just brushing over his shoulder. “Night, Mr. Daryl.”

         “Night,” Daryl replies, patting her on the head. He grins when she rolls her eyes and heads back up stairs.

         Carol waits until Sophia’s back upstairs before shaking her head and going back to the hot chocolate. “I swear she has the hearing of a cat, that girl. Alright, drinks are done.”

         Daryl perches on the edge of her couch and picks at his nails. “Guess it was a good thing Glenn found those hot chocolate packs then.”

         Carol flashes a grin over her shoulder. “Sophia loves hot chocolate. Even when it’s ninety degrees out, she always wants some.” She laughs softly. Carol brings over the mugs and hands one to Daryl as she settles beside him.

         Daryl takes a polite sip. His eyes widen and he hums appreciatively. Of course he’d had hot chocolate before—not often, but still. This was a little different than he was used too, though, more chocolaty.

         “I like to put a few chocolate chips in the mug as well. Glenn found those too,” Carol says with a smirk. She sips at her own mug. “So, Pookie, want to tell me what’s keeping you up?”

         Shrugging, Daryl ducks his head. “I...” he sighs. “”s nothin’, ‘s stupid.”

         “Whatever it is, it’s not stupid,” Carol says, her tone only slightly reprimanding. “You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge.”

         Daryl considers it, leans forward and rests his arms on his knees. He stares down into the hot chocolate, his face distorted in the slowly spinning liquid. “Rick kissed me.”

         “Finally.”

         Daryl’s head snaps up so fast he wonders that he doesn’t get a cramp. “’scuse me?”

         Carol smirks. “I was wondering how long it’d be before one of you would kiss the other. Honestly, the tension between you is thick enough I could cut it with a knife.”

         “That… No, this ain’t okay,” Daryl protests, setting the mug down before he accidentally breaks it.

         “Why not?” Carol asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know you like him.”

         Daryl shakes his head. “Because!” He stands, agitated. “’cause I can’t. He ain’t supposed to.”

         “I don’t understand,” Carol says, standing as well.

         “He’s _supposed_ to be with Michonne.” Daryl hates the way his voice trembles when he says that. “Michonne makes ‘im happy. She’s nice, smart, an’ good...”

         “ _Daryl_.” Carol pulls him into a hug. “Were they together last time?”

         Daryl grips the sides of her robe and tucks his head against her shoulder. “Yeah” he mumbles.

         “Well that was last time. That was Rick and Michonne from a different time line. Where things were different than they are now,” Carol says, rubbing his back.

         “But—”

         “No buts, Pookie,” Carol shushes. “You’re being silly. If you think for one minute that you aren’t also nice and smart and good, you’re wrong.” She shifts back and makes Daryl look at her. “You’re a good man, Daryl Dixon. Don’t listen to Merle, don’t listen to whatever negativity is going on inside that pretty head of yours.”

         Daryl huffs and looks away.

         “If Rick kissed you, it’s because he wants _you_ ,” Carol says, her tone serious.

         “He’ll change his mind,” Daryl replies. He appreciates what Carol is telling him, but he knows he’s not good enough for Rick. He’s too damaged.

         Carol sighs. “You don’t know that. Daryl, please, just give it a chance. You could both be so happy.”

         Daryl steps back. “I…I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         It’s two days later when Sasha and Tyreese returned from a run, a familiar figure trapped between them. Daryl had been hoping to find time to speak with Rick, but this was more important.

         “What’s going on here?” Deanna demands, passing Rick to stand in front of the siblings with a frown. “Who’s this?”

         “This guy tried to steal our car while we were getting supplies,” Tyreese says. He snorts and shakes his head. “Said his name is Jesus.”

         “Actually, my name is Paul. My _friends_ call me Jesus,” Jesus corrects. He doesn’t seem at all concerned about his situation.

         Sasha rolls her eyes. “Whatever you wanna call yourself, you’re a thief.”

         “So why did you bring him here?” Deanna asks, throwing one hand up while the other rests on her hip.

         “Because he has a camp somewhere,” Sasha replies.

         “That’s a bold assumption,” Jesus says. “What makes you think that?”

         Rick steps forward, brows drawn together, his stare hard and serious. “You’re clean. Cleaner than you would be if you were living on your own and movin’ from place to place,” he points out. Rick tips his head to one side. “You also don’t look like you’re starvin’. Which means at least semi-regular meals. And _that_ means a safe place to stay, with people.”

         Jesus nods slowly. “Impressive. Alright, yeah, I’m part of a community, like yours here.”

         “Maybe we should move this conversation inside,” Rick suggests. He turns and heads for his place.

         “Actually, I’d prefer it if we talked in my home,” Deanna says. “It might be a good idea to record this.”

         Rick dips his head in a polite nod, and the group follows Deanna into her town house. They seat Jesus in a chair at the dining room table once they get inside, and everyone falls into a circle, barring any and all possible exits.

         “This is a good community you’ve got. I can tell,” Jesus says with a smile. “The community I come from, Hilltop, we raise livestock and crops mostly. My job is actually to find communities like this one and open up a trade.”

         “Is that why you tried to steal from us?” Tyreese asks, brow raised skeptically.

         Jesus’ smile turns sheepish. “Ah, well, I didn’t realize you were part of a group at that point.” He looks up at Rick. “I know it must be hard to believe, but I honestly do think we could trade. We’ve done it with other communities. I can take you to Hilltop, you can talk with our leader.”

         Deanna looks surprised. “Other communities?”

         “Seems you’ve been pretty isolated,” Jesus remarks with a little huff of a laugh. “Looks like your world’s about to get a lot bigger.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         It surprisingly didn’t take much convincing for Deanna to let them go. Though she remarked that she felt like she really didn’t have the authority to stop them anyway. So Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, and Abraham all headed out the following day.

         Though he knew the timeline was a little off this time, Daryl still couldn’t help but feel growing anxiety over Glenn and Maggie’s safety. Or maybe it was because the timeline _wa_ s a little off. What if he’d messed with things too much and Negan showed up early? That combined with the fact he hadn’t gotten a chance to talk with Rick _still_ was giving Daryl a headache. At least they arrived at Hilltop without incident.

         And just like that, they’re back to dealing with Gregory. Daryl wants to smack his head against one of the nicely paneled walls. He doesn’t; but just barely. Besides, with Rick’s eyes flicking over to him every five damn seconds while Maggie deals with the creep keeps him practically frozen in place. His fingers twitch and he lifts a hand to chew on a nail.

         When negotiations go just about as well as last time, Jesus intervenes. “Please, just let me talk to him.

         “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not worth it,” Maggie says, arms crossed. Glenn hovers beside her, glaring up at the manor. “We’re workin’ on growin’ our own crops anyway.”

         Jesus rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe trade isn’t the only reason I brought you.”

         “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rick asks, instantly on the alert.

         “Trade is the main reason of course,” Jesus insists. “But, well, mostly because I thought it could help us. But seeing just how many people you have and how strong even just you six are...Remember when I mentioned other communities?”

         Rick and Daryl exchange a brief look. Rick nods.

         “Well, one of them is a...problem.” Jesus crosses his arms and rocks back on his heels. “They call themselves The Saviors. They’re led by a guy named Negan. He sends his people here to collect half of everything we have. Anything we find, anything we make, he takes half. If we don’t do as they say, Negan will attack us and slaughter us all.”

         “So, you wanted us to solve your problems then?” Rick asks, hands resting on his hip.

         Jesus shakes his head, hands coming up defensively. “No. Well, at least not for free. That’s the trade. Not only in crops, but we have smiths here, and medicine. And you have ammo and your own crops. I know our trade could be beneficial to both of us. We could trade even more if we didn’t have to worry about The Saviors.”

         Maggie nods slowly, thinking. “I wanna to talk with Gregory again. But first I need to discuss with my group.”

         “Of course,” Jesus agrees, clearly relieved.

         “Abraham, can you take a look around? See if there’s anything else worth trading for?” Rick asks.

         Abraham shrugs. “Guess I could.” He struts off, looking carefully over everything he passes.

         They find a spot away from the Hilltop residents back by the spot where Daryl remembers Glenn and Abraham being buried. He tries not to think about it.

         “Daryl, we already know about Negan. But you thought we should work with these people. What’re your thoughts on this?” Maggie asks.

         Daryl tears his gaze from the undisturbed dirt. “I think we can still agree to help. But we can’t just blindly agree to take care of their problem. Last time they wanted us to take out a single outpost, ‘cause one of their guys is bein’ held prisoner there. But doin’ that got you an’ Carol kidnapped and just alerted Negan to our presence.”

         Rick rubs at his growing beard. “Alright. Well, one thing in our favor this time is we aren’t goin’ in blind.” His eyes travel the walls, looking over the guards and then the people down below. “Who kidnapped Maggie and Carol?”

         “I never met ‘em, but I think it was only four people. At least one woman, the leader. She talked to us with a walkie, an’ we set up a trade of the fifth member of their group for Maggie an’ Carol,” Daryl explains. “The leader seemed smart. Don’t know ‘bout the others, but Maggie an’ Carol managed to kill ‘em all an’ escape before we got to ‘em.”

         “Wow,” Glenn mutters, looking at his wife with an impressed smile.

         Rick can’t seem to help smiling either, though his expression is still thoughtful. “Where did this group keep them? Another outpost?”

         Daryl nods. “Somethin’ like that. Was a slaughter house I think.”

         “Okay. Okay, good. Then we can hit them first,” Rick says, smiling at everyone. “Take care of that group, then we might be able to take the larger outpost. However we managed it the last time seemed to have worked, so we might stick with that plan again.”

         “Should be okay, but I think we might need The Kingdom on our side first, before we go in guns blazin’,” Daryl replies. “’Cause after we take out that post, Negan’s gonna be on our asses.” He glances in Maggie and Glenn’s direction. He wants to force them to stay in Alexandria from this point on, but he knows it won’t happen. “You two, an’ if we can manage it Abraham too, need to stay in Alexandria as much as possible.”

         Maggie raises an eyebrow. “I know you’re worried, but that isn’t happenin’.”

         “Maggie, maybe we should. Not all the time! Just, Daryl knows when it might be best for us to, well, not be involved,” Glenn says, placing a hand on Maggie’s arm.

         “Maybe. But if we stay behind, it means someone will go in our place, and what’s to stop someone else from bein’ killed?” Maggie replies, throwing her hands up. “I don’t want any of us to die, especially not you.” She presses a kiss to Glenn’s cheek, then looks back at Daryl. “But you can’t prevent all possible deaths. If we don’t go, something might happen in Alexandria that you didn’t prepare for.”

         Daryl drops his gaze to the ground. “I know.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna try.”

         “Daryl, because of you, we know what might happen,” Michonne says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We also know who we’re dealing with when it comes to Negan, which means we can plan better for potential attacks that didn’t happen last time. We have a good shot at this.”

         Daryl nods. She’s right, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying.

         “Okay, so we have a plan. Maggie, think you can get Gregory to agree?” Rick asks.

         “Shouldn’t be too hard,” Maggie replies with a grimace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering why I didn't have much of Gregory, it's because I felt it'd be a bit too repetitive from the show and I didn't want to bore you all with that. I'll probably include some dialogue from him eventually though. If anyone cares to know, lol.


	19. Friends

         Daryl has to wonder what possessed Rick to make him bring Shane along with them to The Kingdom. Then again, Beth had mentioned he’d been skulking around Rick’s house while they’d been at Hilltop, so maybe it was for the best. That didn’t mean he had to like it though.

         Currently, they were looking through the abandoned brick buildings in King Ezekiel’s territory. Daryl hoped it would draw his soldiers’ attention. And not in way that would get them killed on sight.

         “You think we’ll be able to convince Ezekiel to work with us?” Carol asks as she pretends to search through a trash can beside him. She grimaces and flings a dead rat away before quickly wiping her hands on her pants.

         Daryl shrugs. “I don’t know. If we explain we’re also gonna try an’ get other communities to help, he might. His people are important to ‘im. He won’t join if it could put ‘em in danger.”

         “His people are already in danger,” Carol says, shaking her head.

         “Yeah. We gotta convince ‘im of that,” Daryl replies, kicking at a pile of junk.

         Carol hums in acknowledgment. “Have you talked to Rick yet?”

         Daryl flinched, not having expected the sudden change in topic. “No. Not yet.”

         Carol looks about to respond when the sound of hooves clattering against pavement interrupts her. They hurry around the building, joining Rick, Shane, Michonne, and Glenn as a man, a teen, and a woman on horseback approach; Richard, Benjamin, and Dianne.

         “Halt trespassers.” Richard demands, spear at the ready. “Who are you?”

         “Trespassers?” Shane glares up at the three, hand on his gun. “The fuck are you talking about?”

         “This is King Ezekiel’s land,” Richard snaps.

         “ _King Ezekiel_?” Shane scoffs, his lip curled in a sneer.

         Rick shoots Shane a look. “I’m Rick Grimes. These are a few of my people. We didn’t mean to trespass on anything. We didn’t know people were livin’ here.”

         “You said a few of your people,” Dianne says. “Are you part of a larger group?”

         Richard, Dianne, and Benjamin share glances. Then Richard speaks again, “You’re coming with us. King Ezekiel will want to speak with you.”

         “What makes you think we’ll go with you?” Shane asks. His hand doesn’t move from his holster.

         “Shane, it’s fine. I think we should check it out,” Rick tells him.

         “Are you serious, man?” Shane frowns at Rick. When he gets no other response he makes a _tch_ sound and backs off. “Fine.”

         Without further argument, they follow the soldiers from the ruins to The Kingdom. Daryl smiles at the awed looks Rick, Carol, Michonne, and Glenn give the place as they walk through the gates. Even Shane seems reluctantly impressed. And despite Daryl’s dislike of how stubborn Ezekiel had been about not fighting back at first, he had always had respect for the fact that he’d been able to build all this and keep his people happy.

         “Whoa, wait,” Rick says, jolting Daryl from his musings. Rick breaks from the group, much to Richard’s annoyance, and jogs over to the gazebo. “Morgan?”

         Daryl quickly follows after Rick, and is pleasantly surprised to see that Morgan isn’t alone up on the gazebo. Noah stands across from him, a stick similar to Morgan’s in his hands. A sense of relief washes over him. Daryl had wondered if Noah would ever be able to escape Grady Memorial. And he’d been right in assuming that, if he did, he’d go right home.

         “Rick?” Morgan smiles. The two clasp hands and share a friendly hug. “Man, I never thought I’d see you again.”

         “I could say the same,” Rick replies, clapping him on the shoulder. “How are you? How’d you get here?”

         “I’m good. I’m good. A lot better. I was wanderin’ for a while, actually, long after we last saw each other.” Morgan turns slightly and beckons Noah over. “Then I met this young man, Noah, outside the remains of a community. Said he found a note talkin’ about a safe community further North.” He chuckles, missing the look Rick and Daryl share. “Noah, this is Rick Grimes. I told you about him, remember?”

         Noah smiles politely and shakes Rick’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

         “Thanks. It's nice to meet you too,” Rick replies. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help but notice you’re favoring one leg. You hurt?”

         “Oh, that,” Noah shrugs. “Long story, actually, but since being here it’s gotten a lot better. Morgan helped too.”

         Morgan looks at the rest of them, his gaze falling on Michonne. “Michonne, right?”

         “That’s right. Nice to see you when you aren’t trying to shoot us,” Michonne replies, teasing.

         Morgan chuckles. “You _did_ take my peanut butter protein bar.”

         “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michonne grins, getting a chuckle from Morgan.

         “Sorry to break up this reunion,” Dianne interrupts, not sounding very sorry at all, “but this can wait until after you meet with the King.”

         “Actually, I think I might come with you,” Morgan says. He raises an eyebrow at Richard and Dianne. “I know Rick, and I’m sure the King would want to know that.”

         Richard sighs and nods.

         “Noah, you keep practicing those stances while I’m gone,” Morgan tells the boy.

         “Yeah, okay. I will,” Noah agrees.

         “Benjamin, you should train with him. Dianne and I have it from here,” Richard says, looking at the blond teen.

         Benjamin eagerly leaves, and Richard and Dianne lead the group to the theater King Ezekiel uses for his throne room.

         

         As before, King Ezekiel sits on his throne on the stage, Jerry on his right, Shiva lounging by his feet. She stands with a low growl when they approach the stage.

         “Is that a fucking tiger?” Shane mutters.

         “Easy, Shiva,” Ezekiel soothes. His warm eyes sweep over the group and he smiles. “Welcome to The Kingdom. I am King Ezekiel, ruler of this fine community. What brings you here?”

         Richard steps forward. “Actually, Your Majesty, we found them in your territory.”

         “Is that so?” Ezekiel strokes his beard thoughtfully. “My question still stands.”

         Daryl watches as Rick moves closer. He himself shifts to stand opposite Michonne who had fanned out with the others to wait scattered through the audience.

         “We’re sorry for trespassin’, Your Majesty,” Rick says. “We didn’t know anyone was livin’ around here. My name is Rick Grimes. I’m part of a community like this. We were out looking for supplies.”

         Morgan approaches the stage. “Your Majesty, I know Rick. We’ve met before. I can promise you he’s not the kind of man to cause trouble.”

         Daryl holds back a snort. Their group tended to get themselves in nothing _but_ trouble.

         “I see. Your word has been good, Morgan. I’ll trust you on this matter.” Ezekiel nods. His attention returns to Rick. “An accident then. And understandable, as we try to remain mostly hidden from the outside. Rick Grimes, you say you are a part of another community?”

         “Yes. A town called Alexandria,” Rick replies. “We’re about twelve miles away from here, actually.”

         Ezekiel smiles. “I have not heard of it, and so it would make sense you had not heard of us. Had you been from Hilltop, your story would have proven itself false.” He stands and Shiva sits, tail curling over her large paws. “I am glad that is not the case. Friends are hard to find in this world. I hope our communities can be such.”

         “I hope so,” Rick agrees, smiling politely. “You know about Hilltop as well? We ran into them a few days ago.”

         “Yes, we trade with them from time to time,” Ezekiel says. “They have been quiet as of late. Jesus hasn’t visited us in many days.”

         “Yeah, and he didn’t trade with us much either,” Jerry adds. “Which is a shame. He’s a really nice guy.”

         “Jerry,” Ezekiel says sternly.

         “Sorry, Your Majesty.”

         Rick decides to break the awkward moment. “That’s because they’re having trouble with a group callin’ themselves The Saviors,” he says. The room suddenly feels uneasy.

         Ezekiel’s smile fades. “Ah. I see. That is unfortunate.”

         “They asked us to help them out with that.”

         “And you agreed?” Ezekiel asks, brows raised.

         Rick nods. “We were hoping to set up a trade with them. But they can only do that if they have things to trade.”

         “Jesus had mentioned The Saviors had been getting a little more aggressive,” Ezekiel says, sitting once more. “But we have no feud with them. Our deal has kept the peace, and that is what is important.”

         Rick’s shoulders tense. “And how long will that peace last? How long before The Saviors aren’t satisfied with your deal and want more? More than you can give?”

         Ezekiel’s eyes narrow. “That is no concern of yours. You saw the gardens as you came here, and there are more you have not seen. We are in no danger of running out of produce to trade.”

         Daryl huffs and moves to stand by Rick. “I thought you said friends were important, Yer Majesty,” he says.

         “Indeed I did,” Ezekiel replies coolly.

         “Then how can ya just let Hilltop fall? Shouldn’t ya help ‘em?” Daryl asks with a frown. He hopes this will make Ezekiel reconsider. Rick’s little story about the rock hadn’t done a thing before, so maybe being insistent would.

         “You have seen my people. Aside from my soldiers, of which there are few, we are not fighters. It is my duty as King to keep my people safe, and that is what I will do,” Ezekiel says, sitting up straighter on his throne.

         “But with all our people, we could stand a chance,” Carol speaks up. “Alexandria, Hilltop, and The Kingdom together, we could do it. And if there are other communities out there? Ones that might also be dealing with The Saviors too? Then we’d have even more people.”

         Ezekiel tilts his head. “And what do you propose we do? We do not know their location, they have outposts everywhere, and Negan is no fool.”

         Rick leans forward. “Except we have an advantage. Negan doesn’t know Alexandria exists.”

         Daryl sees Ezekiel’s eyes brighten in pleased surprise. _Please agree,_ he thinks.

         “I see your point,” Ezekiel says. “I will consider it. But for now the matter is over. You—”

         Shane practically growls. “But—”

         “Do not interrupt the King!” Jerry punctuates the exclamation with a bang of his axe against the floor. Shiva growls and her ears pin back against her head.

         “Enough.” Ezekiel holds up a hand. “Come back in three days. I will have my answer then.” He smiles once more. “You are free to stay as long as you like. I am sure you would like to catch up with your friend Morgan.”

         It’s a clear dismissal. Rick gives a polite, “Thank you,” and follows Morgan from the room. “Morgan, can’t you talk to him?” he asks once they’re outside and far from the theater.

         “Actually, I agree with the King,” Morgan replies, resting his hands on the top of his walking stick. “We need to keep the peace.”

         “What?”

         Daryl rolls his eyes. Great. Morgan had gotten that “All lives are precious” bullshit mindset again. How Morgan had managed to live as long as he had last time was a mystery. Though Daryl supposes he could have died pretty damn quick once he’d left Virginia to go who knows where.

         “All lives are precious, Rick,” Morgan says, as if on cue. “I can’t—I _won’t_ —kill people again. If we fight with the Saviors, it’s only going to lead to loss. On all sides.” He places a hand on Rick’s shoulder, his expression sympathetic. “Think of your people, Rick. Your family. You said Negan doesn’t know about Alexandria. If you help Hilltop, that _will_ change. And then who knows how many’ll die.”

         “Man, if we do jack shit, they still might find us by mistake,” Daryl snaps. “If that happens? We won’t be prepared an’ we’ll die anyway.” He pushes forward, getting into Morgan’s space. “You can believe whatever the hell ya want, but don’t you dare go sayin’ that shit to Ezekiel. With his help, we can stop Negan an’ maybe more people’ll live than die.”

         “Daryl,” Rick says, gently tugging him back. He looks at him, telling him to calm down without words.

         Daryl scowls and looks away. He knows getting into an argument with Morgan won’t help, but they need Ezekiel on their side. Daryl won’t let what happened last time happen again. Even if he has to piss people off to stop it.

         “Never thought I’d say this, but I agree with Daryl,” Shane says. He ignores Rick and Daryl’s surprised expressions. “You can be a pacifist all you want. But don’t let it get others killed.”

         Morgan shakes his head. “If he asks for my opinion, I won’t lie. But if he doesn’t, I won’t say anything. I don’t agree with your method, but I understand it’s what you think you have to do.”

         “Thank you,” Rick says. His annoyance seems to fade and he smiles. “And it _is_ good to see you again. You and Noah can always come to Alexandria.”

         “I appreciate the offer, Rick. If all goes well, maybe we’ll visit soon,” Morgan replies with a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section with The Kingdom went longer than I planned. But it needed to be done so, I hope you enjoyed my attempt at writing Ezekiel XD


	20. Darlin'

         The Council decides that, whether The Kingdom initially agrees or not, they need to get Oceanside and possibly the Scavengers on their side. But they also agree to wait until the three days are up before going to find them.

         So Daryl finds that he has time to talk to Rick. Meaning he’s already been avoiding that as much as possible. He knows Carol is probably disappointed in him—he’s disappointed in himself. But he doesn’t even know how to bring up a conversation about what happened. Daryl wasn’t good at talking and whatever. Still, he just needed to do it. Get it over with.

         Daryl waited until he knew Rick was alone before approaching him. Rick was just returning home late in the evening from patrolling with Michonne, Carl had left earlier to hang out with Enid, and Judith was with Carol. Daryl stomps down his nerves and walks over. “Rick. Can we talk?”

         Rick, though his brows raise, nods. “Sure.” He leads Daryl inside. “Just gimme a minute.”

         “Yeah.” Daryl sits on the table as Rick disappears upstairs, presumably to change out of his uniform. He isn’t sure why Rick keeps that up, except maybe that he enjoys it. Maybe it gave him something to do while they were waiting. Not that Daryl is complaining; that uniform looked nice on Rick. Daryl grimaces in embarrassment at his own thoughts and shakes his head.

         The thud of boots on the stairs has Daryl looking up.

         “So,” Rick starts as he walks over, “what did you want to talk about?”

         Daryl stands, but he finds it difficult to look Rick in the eye. “Wanted to say sorry. Fer b’fore. Fer runnin’ away.”

         “It’s okay, Daryl,” Rick says, causing Daryl to look up with a confused frown. He sighs and scrapes his fingers through his curls. “I realized after, that I took advantage. I didn’t mean to. You were upset and I should have asked before just...kissin’ you out of the blue.”

         “What? No! Ya didn’t take advantage of me or whatever,” Daryl protests. Had that been why Rick kept sending looks his way? _He’d_ felt guilty? Daryl kind of wants to laugh and kind of wants to smack him. “I liked it,” he confesses with a blush.

         Rick’s shoulder slump with relief, but then he frowns and tilts his head. “Then why were you avoidin’ me?”

         Daryl crosses his arms over his chest and chews at his bottom lip. “I felt guilty.”

         “Why would you feel guilty? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Rick asks, stepping closer.

         “Talked with Carol. She said I was bein’ silly, but...” Daryl shrugs. “Last time you…you were with Michonne. An’ she made ya happy, an’ Carl happy.”

         Rick shakes his head and places his hands on Daryl’s shoulders. He ducks his head, locking eyes with him. “Daryl, _you_ make me happy.”

         Before Daryl can respond he’s being pulled into a hug.

         “Carol is right. You were being silly,” Rick chuckles. More seriously he continues, “Michonne is a wonderful woman, but she’s only a good friend to me. What ever happened before, happened before. Honestly, the other me must’ve been an idiot or blind not to realize just how much you mean to me.”

         “ _Rick._ ” Daryl is glad Rick can’t see his face, because he’d see just how close to tears that brought him. He takes a couple of calming breaths and leans back a little to look into Rick’s eyes. There’s nothing but sincerity there. Sincerity and something stronger than fondness. Daryl grips the back of Rick’s shirt and leans forward to kiss him. Rick immediately kisses back. A hand stays at Daryl’s lower back while the other slides up to cup his cheek. He pulls Daryl closer, so that no inch of them isn’t touching. Daryl hums contentedly into the kiss. He gasps when Rick’s tongue flicks teasingly over his bottom lip a moment later.

         Rick pulls back and rests his forehead against Daryl’s. He smirks. “Have I ever said how much I like it when you blush?” His hand caresses Daryl’s cheek before sliding back into his hair.

         Daryl snorts and looks away. “Yer ridiculous.” His breath hitches when Rick presses him back and his hands fly behind himself to keep from falling onto the table.

         “Maybe,” Rick agrees, leaning over him. “But I don’t think you mind.” He kisses Daryl again. Tugging a little at his hair, Rick gets Daryl to tip his head to the side and presses his lips to his cheek, jaw, neck.

         Daryl moans softly. “Nah...don’t mind.” He’d never felt anything like this before. Never thought too much about it either. But the scratch of Rick’s beard against his throat, the gentle pressure of slightly chapped lips on his collarbone, is driving him absolutely wild. A scrape of teeth has Daryl’s hips pushing up against Rick’s with a louder moan.

         “Fuck,” Rick groans, a warm puff of breath against Daryl’s skin. Instinctively he presses back, grinding his own hips against Daryl’s. Then he stops and pulls back, only a little. “Daryl, wait. Is this… is this what you want?”

         A frustrated growl leaves Daryl’s lips. “I ain’t a damn child, and I ain’t no weak-ass—yeah, I wantcha,” Daryl snaps, fisting his hands against the front of Rick’s shirt. Softer, he adds, “If ya want me, you can have me.”

         Instead of answering, Rick kisses Daryl again. And Daryl is very okay with that. The feeling of large hands squeezing his ass a second later makes him jump, though. “Let’s take this upstairs?” Rick suggests, his voice dropped an octave.

         A shiver rushes down his spine. “Yeah.” Daryl licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.” He lets Rick take his hand and lead him upstairs. To the bedroom. He wonders if Rick is able to hear how hard his heart his beating; from anticipation and nerves in equal measure. “Rick, I ain’t never done this b’fore.”

         Rick smiles that reassuring smile of his and curls his arms around Daryl’s waist. “We’ll go slow. Don’t have to do more than you feel ready for,” he promises. “And to be fair, I haven’t been with a guy, so...” Rick shrugs and his grin turns lopsided. “I had to ask Aaron and Eric for advice. That was an awkward conversation.”

         Daryl feels his face heat up. “You _what?_ When? How long you been plannin’ this, Grimes?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

         “Grimes now is it?” Rick chuckles, sliding Daryl’s vest off. “I haven’t exactly been plannin’ it. But, it wasn’t long after we moved here, actually. I just knew I cared about you, and figured I should have some idea what to do if things were to...work out.”

         Daryl huffs in response and leans close. “Awful confidant ain’t ya,” he purrs, fingers finding the buttons of Rick’s denim shirt. He kisses the corner of Rick’s mouth as he pops the buttons open. The warm roughness of Rick’s palms sliding beneath his shirt makes him sigh. And then Rick is trying to tug his shirt up and off. Daryl feels a second of instinctual panic. But he trusts Rick, with everything and anything.

         Rick must have sensed it, because as soon as he’s got Daryl’s shirt off, he’s peppering his face and neck with kisses. His hands roam reverently over Daryl’s sides and back. “Gorgeous, darlin’,” Rick rumbles, eyes sweeping over his body.

         Daryl bites his lower lip at the sound of the pet name. “Ain’t,” he denies. Before Rick can try to assure him, Daryl finally unbuttons his shirt and pushes it off. They kiss again, though Daryl wonders if this should really be called that. It’s more a clashing of lips, teeth, and tongue. They grasp at each other. Push, pull, shove, and yank, until they’re both naked, toppling onto the bed. Daryl keens at the feeling of Rick rutting against him.

         Slowing the roll of his hips, Rick kisses his way down to Daryl’s chest. A flick of his tongue over Daryl’s nipple has him shuddering. “A sensitive spot,” Rick chuckles. He just barely manages to catch Daryl’s foot when he kicks at him.

         “If yer gonna make fun of me, I’m kickin’ ya out,” Daryl snaps.

         Rick shakes his head and kisses his cheek. “I wasn’t, I promise.” He calms Daryl with gentle kisses as he rubs a thumb over the same nipple. Then pinches. Daryl gasps and arches against him, his legs coming up to curl around Rick’s hips. Rick wraps a hand around Daryl’s erection and strokes.

         Daryl moans and clutches at his biceps. “ _Rick..._ ” He pants and tosses his head back and forth. Rick’s grip was perfect, it was too good. Daryl squeezes his eyes shut.

         “Don’t,” Rick growls, letting go to turn Daryl’s face towards him. “Want to see your eyes.” He smiles when Daryl looks up at him. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown with lust. “Beautiful.”

         “Yer a sap,” Daryl mutters, trying to ignore the pleased blush he knew was spreading over his cheeks. He bucks his hips and tugs Rick down against him. “Get on with it.”

Rick grins. “Gladly.” He sits up and reaches over to the nightstand—ignoring Daryl’s growl of protest at the lack of contact—and grabs a small bottle of lube and a condom. Rick shuffles back into place and just manages not to gape at the way Daryl spreads his legs for him.

         Daryl blushes and looks away. “Just ‘cause I ain’t never done this b’fore, doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want,” he mutters, glancing down at Rick’s cock. A puff of a breath escapes him as Rick’s hands smooth over his thighs and lift them. The pop of the cap seems to echo throughout the bedroom. Daryl bites his lip, hard.

         “Relax,” Rick soothes, kissing Daryl’s neck and shoulders. He rubs a slick finger over Daryl’s rim. The pitched moan that tumbles from his lips causes Rick to smirk.

         Daryl can’t decide whether he wants to grip at the sheets or Rick’s back. “ _Ah_...Rick...nnh!” he pants, the rough pad of Rick’s finger driving him crazy. Daryl pushes his head back into the pillow the moment Rick breaches him. Though he won’t admit it, he’s a little grateful that Rick is being as gentle and patient as he is. Daryl looks down to where Rick is now nipping at the jut of his hipbones. It feels fucking fantastic.

         Rick presses his lips to quivering thighs, sliding his finger in further. “So good for me, Daryl,” he praises. He swipes his tongue up the underside of Daryl’s cock as he adds a second finger. Daryl gives a breathy shout. His back arches as Rick spreads his fingers. They thrust and curl, searching, and—

         “AH!” Daryl cries out, his hips snapping up then pushing back onto Rick’s fingers. A full body shiver racks through him. “Do...do that again.”

         Rick obliges, getting an honest-to-god mewl out of Daryl in response. “Makin’ some pretty noises for me,” he purrs, pleased, slipping a third finger into Daryl while he’s distracted. Rick leans up and kisses along Daryl’s collarbones. When his fingers are able to practically glide within him, Rick pauses. “Ready for more?”

         Daryl nods. “Yeah, _yes_.” He watches, broad chest heaving, as Rick rolls on a condom and liberally coats it with lube. “Please.” Daryl’s barely aware of the fact he’s begging, but it’s Rick, so he doesn’t really care right now.

         “Alright, alright,” Rick chuckles, lining himself up. “Just breath, darlin’, okay?”

         Gritting his teeth, Daryl wants to snap at Rick to just get on with it, but then Rick’s pushing in. “ _Fuck_.” A punched out moan. It takes him a second to remember to breathe. Daryl clings to Rick as his body is overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled and stretched. He knew Rick was big but he feels down right huge as he slowly thrusts inside.

         Rick bottoms out and drops forward, forearms bracketing Daryl’s head. “Relax, breathe. I’ve got you,” he murmurs as he strokes Daryl’s hair. He leans down and rests their foreheads together.

         Daryl lets his eyes slip shut and he tries to focus on relaxing. The discomfort fades. That full feeling stays, but it’s a lot...nicer. Satisfying. Rick’s weight on top of him, around him, in him, is comforting in the strangest way. Daryl wraps his legs around Rick’s waist and opens his eyes. “Okay.”

         “Okay,” Rick repeats. He sits up and holds Daryl’s hips, pulling out a bit before pushing back into him. Daryl moans and digs his short nails into Rick’s back. “Fuck...you’re still so tight,” Rick groans, setting up a steady but gentle pace.

         Each drag out, each thrust in, Daryl feels it and it’s so good but not enough. He rocks his hips back into a particular thrust and throws his head back with—what he’d forever deny was—a wail. Daryl pulls Rick down into a kiss, wrapping arms and legs around him tightly. Rick moans into his mouth and thrusts harder. Daryl tangles his fingers into the back of Rick’s curls and tugs at them.

         “ _Daryl._ ” Rick nips at his bottom lip, hips grinding into Daryl’s.

         Daryl lets loose a strangled whine and bites down on Rick’s shoulder as he grinds back. “Rick...Rick...gonna...hnnh! _Close_ ,” he groans against the bite mark.

         “Yeah?” Rick pants. He nuzzles Daryl’s temple and reaches between them to stroke Daryl’s cock. “Go ahead. C’mon, darlin’.”

         Pleasure zings through his body, and Daryl’s back bows almost completely off the bed as he cums. His vision gradually returns from the blinding whiteness. Rick’s pace stutters and stills. Daryl’s soft moan mixes with Rick’s tired groan of his name as he finishes.

         Rick presses languid kisses over Daryl’s chest as he pulls out. He removes the condom, ties it, and tosses it into the wastebasket beside the bed. “That was...really great.”

         “Mmhmm.” Daryl’s ready to sink into the bed properly and fall asleep. His body aches in the best possible way.

         “Gimme a sec,” Rick mutters. He climbs out of bed and disappears into the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth and cleans them both up before settling beside Daryl.

         Daryl turns his head. Rick’s cobalt eyes rake over his body. “What?” Daryl grunts.

         Rick chuckles and kisses his cheek. “You look good all fucked out.”

         “Tch.” Daryl rolls his eyes. He turns onto his side, draping an arm over Rick’s waist, and hides his smile in his chest.

         Rick kisses the top of his head. “Gonna stay the night?”

Daryl responds by curling a leg over Rick’s and sighing contentedly. Rick’s arms wrapping around him is the last thing he feels before drifting into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh boy. Here it is, the smut! I really hope you guys liked this, I'm always a worried mess when it comes to writing sex scenes. Not to mention this is in present tense which, have I mentioned I never write in present tense? Anyway...yeah, I hope you all enjoyed.


	21. Safe

         The soft glide of lips along the back of his neck is what wakes Daryl. His body goes stiff.

         “Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Rick murmurs, rubbing Daryl’s stomach.

         Daryl relaxes. “’S okay.” He realizes, what with Rick spooned up against him from behind, he must have rolled over some time in the night. Daryl turns his head, squinting at the golden light filtering in through the curtains. “How long ya been awake?”

         Rick kisses Daryl’s shoulder. “Not long.”

         “Ya always this cuddly in the mornin’?” Daryl yawns and presses himself further back into Rick’s embrace. He blushes when Rick scoops up his hand and kisses the back of it.

         “Yep,” Rick chuckles. Slipping a leg between Daryl’s, he brings them closer together so that they’re touching completely. “Besides, we might not get another chance to enjoy this for a while. Think we should make the most of it.”

         Daryl can’t find it in himself to argue with that. At his contented hum of acceptance, Rick kisses the tip of his nose. It makes his body buzz in a strange, stupidly happy way. Daryl wants to soak in the feeling. Especially because Rick is right; even with everything they’re doing, he doesn’t know if they’ll survive it. Maybe it’s all for nothing. For all he knows this could be some cruel afterlife where no matter what he changes they’ll all end up dying anyway and he’ll be doomed to keep “going back in time” to try and fix shit and it just doesn’t work.

         “Hey,” Rick’s soothing drawl pierces through Daryl’s dark thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

         Daryl shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about it. And he knows just how to shut his mind up now. Daryl rolls his ass back against Rick’s hips, tilting his head to shoot him a heated look.

         Rick’s pupils blow wide and he smirks. “I see,” he rumbles, palming at Daryl’s hip.

“Ya said we should make the most of it,” Daryl says, arching and rubbing back against Rick. He feels Rick’s interest against his ass and grins crookedly.

         “I did say that,” Rick agrees, sliding his hand down over Daryl’s stomach, which twitches under his touch, and between his legs. “I’m gonna need to get up to get a condom though.”

         Daryl moans as Rick strokes him. “Nah. We’ll take a shower an’ whatever after. ‘Sides, wanna know what it feels like.” A disappointed groan leaves him when Rick’s hand freezes. He glances back over his shoulder and bites his lip when he sees the downright predatory look Rick is giving him.

         “Are you tryin’ to kill me?” Rick growls.

         Chuckling, Daryl pats around the bed, trying to find the lube. He frowns when his fingers brush across it under the pillow. Shrugging, Daryl passes the bottle to Rick and kisses him, not caring about morning breath. Rick apparently doesn’t care either because he kisses him back. Daryl sighs as Rick’s slicked fingers press into him easily. “Mmmh...”

         Rick goes back to kissing Daryl’s shoulder as he opens him up. “I’m gonna get addicted to this,” he mutters, letting his beard rasp against Daryl’s skin. “Might already be.”

         Daryl simply hums in agreement, pushing back against Rick’s long fingers. Too soon they were pulling out. Rick’s hand curls around his thigh and lifts Daryl’s leg so he can have the space he needs. Daryl slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling his moan, as Rick pushes in.

         “Don’t know if I’m gonna last as long as last night,” Rick mutters, squeezing Daryl’s hip.

         Daryl huffs. “Me neither.” He lets out contented little noises as Rick starts up a lazy roll of his hips. Rick sucks a hickey into his neck, sliding his hand back down Daryl’s body. Daryl gasps as a large hand wraps around him and strokes. He’s _reall_ y not going to last much longer. He tips his head back and kisses Rick’s bearded chin.

         Rick’s lips slide over his temple as he pulls Daryl’s leg back over his own to get a better angle. “ _There,_ ” he grunts at Daryl’s keening response to Rick hitting his prostate. And then he makes sure to keep doing that. Soft breaths warm Daryl’s ear as Rick murmurs sweet nothings into it. “Beautiful. So good for me, Daryl.”

         “ _Rick!_ ” Daryl cries out as he spills over Rick’s hand. Not even three seconds later he feels Rick cumming inside him, and moans loudly. Daryl trembles and leans back against Rick’s chest. “ _Damn_ , that’s...” He can’t even finish that sentence. It just felt so good. Daryl’s gaze flicks down to Rick’s hand, and before he can really think it over, he pulls it up so he can lick his fingers clean.

         “Jesus, Daryl,” Rick groans, his head dropping forward to rest against Daryl’s shoulder blade.

         Daryl shrugs and reaches back to pat Rick’s thigh. “Time fer that shower.”

         “Never thought I’d hear that from you,” Rick says with a smirk.

         “Shut it.” Daryl rolls his eyes and wriggles out from Rick’s embrace.

         The two pick up their clothes and head into the bathroom. When they step into the shower, Daryl feels Rick’s hands on his back.

         “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine. But if you do, you know you can, right?” Rick says, sliding his hand down to Daryl’s waist as he reaches for the soap.

         Daryl sighs. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about. It happened a long time ago. Before...everythin’.” He turns, taking the soap from Rick, and scrubs at Rick’s chest. “My ol’ man was a piece of shit. That’s all there is to it.”

         Rick doesn’t ask about it further, just kisses him and grabs the shampoo, which Daryl is thankful for.

 

         Carl looks up from his breakfast as Rick and Daryl enter the kitchen.

         Daryl freezes. He’d forgotten Carl was probably home. How much had he heard? He’d tried to be quiet at first, but he’d sort of forgotten later.

         “Morning,” Carl greets, going back to his toast. “Can’t wait to tell Sophia she owes me that comic she found.”

         Rick turns from the fridge, brows raised. “Wait what?”

         Carl smirks and shakes his hair from his eyes. “I bet Sophia you two would get together before winter. I won.”

         “How the hell many people are talkin’ ‘bout us behind our backs?” Daryl throws his hands up indignantly. “First Carol, now y’all kids!”

         “Whoa, Carol?” Rick looks a little lost now.

         Daryl huffs and shoves some bread in the toaster. He doesn’t normally eat much for breakfast but he’d worked up an apatite. “I might’ve gone to Carol fer advice...She wasn’t exactly surprised.” Then a thought hit him. Did Merle know? Of course he’d always made jokes but if he actually knew… No if he knew he would have kicked his ass by now. Right?

         “Daryl, you’re breathin’ funny, you okay?” Rick asks, hand resting gently on his back.

         Carl stands. “I’m sorry, Daryl. No one else really talks about it, I promise,” he says. He shifts closer. “If it makes you feel better, I’m happy you two are together?”

         Daryl blinks and looks at Carl. “Ya are?”

         “Well yeah, you’re really cool, why wouldn’t I be?” Carl replies with a shrug. Then, apparently deciding it was getting too mushy, he snatches up the rest of his breakfast and hurries out of the house with a quick “Later!”

         Rick chuckles. He turns to Daryl and places a hand on his waist, expression becoming serious. “Daryl, are you really okay?”

         Daryl sighs through his nose. “’M fine. Just… I thought maybe Merle knew but...”

         “Hey,” Rick soothes, cupping Daryl’s face. “You don’t need to worry about that. We can keep this to ourselves if it makes you feel better. But if he does find out? You can handle it. You’re so strong, Daryl. No matter what shit he tries to pull, it’ll be okay. And if you need me I’ll be here for you.”

         He hadn’t known that’s what he’d needed to hear, but Daryl is grateful. He leans close and brushes a chaste kiss against Rick’s lips. “Thanks.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “Come on, Daryl, I don’t see why I can’t go with you guys. I’ll never know how to take down a walker if I’m not allowed out,” Denise says with a huff. “Besides, I know what I’m looking for.”

         “An’ ya can write it down. Not like I can’t read,” Daryl replies. He absolutely will not let Denise go with him and Rosita. He doesn’t care if it annoys her. Daryl would rather her be pissy with him than dead.

         Denise gives him a deadpan look. “You know if you don’t take me with you, I’ll just follow you anyway.”

         Rosita shakes her head and turns to Daryl. “We might as well. At least if she’s with us we can keep her from getting hurt.”

         “Why do you gotta come, huh? It ain’t safe,” Daryl snaps, moving away from the front gate.

         “Exactly! I need to know what it’s really like out there. I want to...I want to know what Tara’s been through. I know it wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as what you guys have survived, but it’s something,” Denise says, looking at the ground.

         Daryl snorts derisively and gets in her face. “Fine. But you do _what_ I say, _when_ I say it. No explorin’ anythin’ without one of us with you, no matter what,” he growls.

         Denise perks up. “Sir, yes, sir,” she says with a smirk.

         Rolling his eyes, Daryl gets into the truck. Denise and Rosita climb in after and they head out. About fifteen minutes into the drive, Daryl remembers why he hates this damn truck. The shift keeps grinding and creaking every time he uses it.

         “You know, my brother taught me how to drive trucks like this when I was young,” Denise remarks pointedly.

         “You wanna drive it then?” Daryl offers. He knows she can handle that much, and besides, it would free him up to fight if need be.

         “Yes!”

         Daryl pulls over and they switch spots. As they start up again, Daryl looks over at Rosita. “Hey, mind if I ask ya somethin’?”

         Rosita shrugs. “Shoot.”

         “Not that I ain’t happy y’all are with us, but I thought you an’ Abraham an’ Eugene were goin’ to Washington?” Daryl asks. Honestly, he’s not sure he should remind them of that, if they’d forgotten, but he wants to know.

         “Well, we still plan on going,” Rosita says. “But Eugene insisted we stay a little longer. Apparently the cure will take about six months, and then actually curing everyone might be about a year. More if “unforeseen problems were to arise”. So he said he wouldn’t feel right with us leaving all of you without making sure at least one group would survive that long.”

         “Huh,” Daryl mutters. So Eugene hadn’t revealed his lie yet. “Makes sense I guess.”

         Rosita nods. “That’s what I said. Abraham threw a hissy fit about it, but agreed eventually.”

 

         The expedition goes much the same way as it had last time. With their bags full of supplies from the apothecary, the three arrive back at the train tracks. “You were right about it being faster,” Denise says, smiling at Rosita. “We could probably go back this way.”

         “Absolutely not,” Daryl growls.

         Rosita raises an eyebrow. “Why not? It was perfectly fine on the way here.”

         “I mean, I don’t get what you have against train tracks, but if you really don’t like them I can just go with Rosita this time,” Denise suggests.

         Daryl’s eyes narrow. “None of us are goin’ on the tracks. I said you could come with us if you did what I told ya, so we’re goin’ the long way.”

         Denise and Rosita exchange a look.

         “Don’t. Tracks always lead to somethin’ bad. _Always._ We ain’t goin’ that way,” Daryl says and walks down the road he and Denise had taken before. He’s relieved when he hears them follow a moment later.

         “I wanted to come out here to face my fears,” Denise says after a while. “What I saw in there...it was awful. But I can handle it. Thanks to you two.” She looks up at Daryl. “I feel safe with you. So I think it’s bullshit that you think we can’t handle the train tracks. What could possibly be so bad about them?”

         Daryl shakes his head. “Ya know who follows train tracks?”

         “No..?”

         “Everyone,” Daryl says. “Because they’re “safe” and of course they’ll lead _somewhere._ Which means who knows what kind of people are usin’ ‘em.”

         Denise snorts. “Wait, so you’re all paranoid because we _might_ run into someone?” She gestures at the road. “We’re just as likely to meet someone going this way.”

         “I never took you for the paranoid type,” Rosita mentions. “Cautious, yes, but that’s a bit extreme.”

         Daryl stops, turning to the two women. “Ya wanna know why I don’t like those damn tracks?” he snaps, startling them both. At their nods he grits his teeth. “Fine. Look, a…a while ago, some of my group followed some train tracks. Figured it’d be the best way to find each other ‘cause we’d gotten separated. Well, we found each other, but we also found this group called Terminus which was callin’ itself a safe haven.” Daryl frowns and turns away. “Was a bunch of cannibals. Almost got ourselves eaten because we thought the tracks were safe! So no, I ain’t fuckin’ paranoid!”

         Denise catches up to Daryl as he stomps away. “Daryl, I’m sorry. I didn’t know… But you always have good reasons for things, I should’ve guessed for this too.”

         Daryl waves her off. “’S fine.” He gives a grunt of surprise when Denise wraps her arms around him.

         “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says. Denise steps back, looking a little embarrassed. “Sorry. My brother he...You really do remind me of him.”

         Daryl pats her awkwardly on the shoulder.

         “Well shit in my mouth and call me your sister! Wasn’t expecting to see you three!” Only one person could shout such ridiculous nonsense in such a serious way. Abraham and Eugene stepped out of the trees.

         “What were you doing in there?” Rosita asks, frowning.

         “Damn herd snuck up on us on our way back,” Abraham explains, lip curling in annoyance. “But while we’re here, you might as well tell them what you told me.” He shoves Eugene forward.

         Eugene looks back at Abraham, then at Rosita, then down to the ground. “W-well, I…I lied. About the cure. I don’t know how to cure anythin’.”

         “ _What?_ ” Rosita’s voice is low and deadly.

         “I am deeply, truly sorry for lyin’ but, I needed to survive, so on that account I am not sorry. I _am_ sorry for keepin’ it up for so long,” Eugene says, hands fidgeting.

_Smack!_

         Eugene presses his hand over his cheek, backing up as Rosita cusses him out in Spanish.

         “What the hell is wrong with you!? _Huh?_ ” Rosita demands, calming down enough to go back to English.

         “I-I freely admit that I am a coward. I have no fighting skills and I knew I’d die if I didn’t stay with Abraham, and then you,” Eugene explains, lifting his chin in defiance. At Rosita’s sharp glare he flinches away. “Look, I know it was wrong, and I had every intention of tellin’ you the truth when we first got to Alexandria, but I panicked. I thought you might toss me out at the first chance and I could not let that happen.”

         “Damn right we would have!” Rosita snaps. “We still might!”

         “You can’t!”

         “Why the hell not?”

         Eugene calms and with more confidence than any sane man should have when Rosita is yelling says, “Because I know how to make bullets.” He smiles hesitantly. “I found an old factory and with the right materials I can make as many bullets as we need.”

         “And that right there is why I didn’t already kill him,” Abraham says, crossing his arms. “If we’re gonna fight this Negan asshole, then we need all the ammo we can get. I may not know the guy, but something tells me we’re in for a whole lotta shit.”

         Rosita gets in Eugene’s face, jabbing him in the chest with a finger “You’d better hope you can actually make those bullets. If this is another lie, I won’t hesitate to feed you to the walkers personally.” Muttering angrily, she turns and stomps off.

         As much as Daryl does _not_ like Eugene, he does know they’re better off with him on their side as opposed to Negan’s. He drops back to walk beside Eugene as they all head down the road. “Look, I didn’t believe ya when ya said there was a cure. But I do know yer smart, an’ yer useful. You’ve proved it b’fore. Just ‘cause they’re mad at ya, don’t mean ya ain’t needed with us.”

         Eugene smiles at him. “While I am bein’ honest, I want to say when we first met I believed you to be not much more than a simpleton. And while you are no-where near my intelligence—not many are—you do have your own brand of smarts.” He must see Daryl’s desire to punch him in the face because he quickly continues. “I only mean that I appreciate your faith in my ability and am happy to be considered useful by you.”

         Daryl rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end, everyone! I'm thinking this'll probably end up around 25 chapters? At most? But that's just a guess, tbh. Anyway, I'm really glad people enjoyed the previous chapter, hopefully you all keep enjoying this story until the end. :)


	22. The Fight Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the kudos and lovely comments! It always makes me so happy to see them! :D

         Daryl follows Rick as he, Carol, Michonne, and Beth—who’d insisted on joining—walks through The Kingdom. He really hopes that Ezekiel will agree to help without so much hassle this time. At least they aren’t being escorted by guards, even if Richard is keeping an eye on them all from afar.

         Noah approaches them, Morgan no-where to be seen. “Hey,” he greets, his eyes flicking from side to side. “There’s, uh, something I think y’all should know. Before you meet with King Ezekiel.”

         “And what is that, exactly?” Rick asks, hands on his hips.

         “Well...” Noah shifts from foot to foot. “Morgan probably wouldn’t want me telling you, but, me and him, yesterday we went with some of the other guards. Basically, Ezekiel revealed he’s been giving the Saviors tainted meat.”

         The group exchanges looks of surprise and suppressed excitement. Rick steps closer. “And your sure about that?”

         Noah nods. “I was right there. I know you don’t know me, but that’s what he said. Just...thought you should know. Felt like it could be helpful somehow.” He looks around. “I should probably go find Morgan.”

         As they continue on to the auditorium, Daryl looks to Rick. When he looks back, Daryl can tell Rick understands.

         “Rick!” Ezekiel smiles and stands as they enter the auditorium. Jerry grins at them from his spot near the back of the stage. “So good to see you and your people again.”

         Rick inclines his head politely. “Not to be impatient, but?” he gestures at Ezekiel.

         Ezekiel raises an eyebrow. “I understand your urgency,” he replies. His smile drops, and his expression turns serious. “This was a difficult decision to make. I want you to know I thought long and hard on the matter.”

         Daryl grits his teeth. If this fucker refused to help again…

         “I will help,” Ezekiel declares. Before Rick can thank him, he holds up a hand. “There are of course conditions to this help. And there will be discussions between us before any actions are taken. The safety of my people is still paramount, I hope you understand.”

         “Of course,” Rick agrees, his smile a lot more genuine. “I think we can come up with a plan that works for all of us.”

         Ezekiel nods. “I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

         “First, I think we need to have Jesus in on this meeting.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “You want me to spy on the Sanctuary?” Jesus asks, brows raised so high they threatened to disappear under his beanie.

         “That’s right,” Rick says. He looks at Ezekiel. “We were told you’ve been sending the Saviors tainted meat.”

         “Is that so?” Ezekiel frowns, then he looks to Noah. “I don’t suppose that’s _your_ doing?”

         Noah ducks his head. “Yes, Your Majesty. I thought it could be useful. I’m sorry.”

         Ezekiel chuckles. “I’m not mad. They are our allies after all.” He turns to Rick. “Please, continue. I’m curious as to where you’re headed with this.”

         “So am I,” Carol says, looking intrigued.

         “You want to poison the Saviors,” Beth says, having joined them again. The group turns to look at her. She shrugs.“I mean, it’s kind of obvious.”

         “That was the thought, yes,” Rick replies. “But it relies a lot on whether or not the food for Negan and his army is separated from the food the workers get. If there’s a chance innocent people could be killed… I’d like to avoid that.”

         Jesus nods slowly. “And that’s why you want me to spy. So I can see if that’s the case.”

         Daryl chews on his thumbnail. He doesn’t remember if there was that separation or not. If there had been, he hadn’t seen it himself. Not that he was in a position to.

         “Daryl?”

         “Huh?” Daryl looks up from the floor of the room they’d gathered in.

         “What do you think of the plan?” Rick asks, silently implying that if he had any knowledge that would help or hinder now would be the time to say so.

         Daryl shakes his head. “I don’t know. Poison seems kinda...cowardly. But it might be the best shot we have. If it works, it works.”

         Rick rubs at his beard. “We might not even be able to make a deadly poison. Might be best to just make them sick.”

         “And that’s if they do separate the food,” Ezekiel says. “I hope this isn’t your only plan?”

         “Not at all,” Carol replies. “Actually, we plan on hitting their outposts. Taking out the smaller groups while we’re still unknown.”

         Ezekiel smiles at her. “That sounds more reliable. This is something I could help with. Richard knows of a nearby outpost.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl frowns down at the slaughterhouse from where he and the others are perched on a hill, hidden by trees. Though he wasn’t there long, he remembers finding Carol and Maggie inside that place. But that wouldn’t happen this time. No, they’d been staking it out for a few days now and they knew the routine.

         A quiet but sharp whistle cut through the air. Merle’s signal that everyone was inside the building.

         Daryl copies the whistle, so that Rick, Tara, and Abraham also know.

         It’s time.

         Five against five.

         Abraham, being the tallest, manages to see through one of the windows into the front hall. “Clear.”

         Rick opens the door and they file in, weapons at the ready. They reach the corner and Daryl presses his back to the cold, metal wall and peers around it. He spots one of the men—Donnie, he thinks—near the end of the second hallway, back to them, thankfully.

         Donnie pushes a chained up walker away from him, swearing under his breath.

         Daryl looks back at the others, motions for them to stay put, and steps around the corner. Just as Donnie turns, he looses a bolt into the man’s head. Daryl waves for the others and they hurry past, Daryl only pausing to retrieve his bolt.

         At the sight of them, the walkers whip into a frenzy, growling, snarling, and hacking away.

         “Shut it!” Merle stabs one in the head. Then another.

         Daryl grabs his arm and pulls. “Ain’t got time fer that,” he hisses.

         “What the hell’re those fucks gettin’ all worked up over _now?_ ” complained a female voice from down the next hall.

         “How about you go check if it bothers you so much,” snapped another female voice. This one Daryl definitely recognized. Paula. The one who had talked to them all over the walkie-talkie.

         There is no time to react. A door opens and clangs shut. An older woman turns the corner. “What the fuck!?” She reaches for a gun.

         Tara beats her to it. “Don’t even try!”

         Primo rounds the corner, his own pistol drawn. “What the hell is going on? Who are you people?” He swears as a bullet whizzes past his head.

         “Merle!” Rick shoots a glare at the older Dixon who sneers in response. The distraction is enough for Primo to recover and shoot back.

         Bullets from both sides ping off the walls. Shouting echoes throughout the hallway. Paula and another woman appear, joining the fight. Abraham fires, the bullet lodges in the older woman’s head and she drops.

         Paula and Tara grapple as the other young woman dodges Merle’s swipe with his machete. Rick kicks Primo away, goes to shoot, but the man dodges and slashes at him with a knife. Daryl wraps his arm around Primo’s neck and yanks him back.

         Another body hits the floor. It’s too chaotic to tell who, though.

         Daryl shouts as he’s shoved backwards over a barrel. A walker lunges and he just manages to dodge as Primo struggles to pin him.

         “Daryl!” Rick yells.

         A good hard knee to the groin has Primo loosening his grip. Daryl hefts him backwards and into the hall of walkers. Rick grabs Daryl’s hand and hauls him off the barrel, both ignoring Primo’s screams. Daryl nods his thanks and fires a bolt over Rick’s shoulder and into Paula’s arm.

         Paula cries out, stumbling away from Tara. And Tara takes that opportunity to shove her knife up under her jaw. She yanks it back out. Paula gurgles and crumples to the ground.

         “Daryl, you okay?” Rick asks, looking him over. “Did you get bit?”

         “Nah, ‘m fine,” Daryl replies and goes to retrieve his bolt.

         “Looks like we got ‘em all,” Abraham says, looking at the carnage. “Should we take care of those ugly assholes too?” He points at the walkers which are still feeding.

         Tara shrugs. “Probably.” She grimaces. “They _are_ distracted right now.”

         “Could set ‘em on fire,” Daryl suggests. “Burn ‘em an’ these guys up. It’ll look like an accident. Might buy us some extra time.”

         “Now that sounds like a damn fine plan to me,” Abraham says, holstering his gun. “Now, there’s gotta be _something_ flammable in this shithole.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “So, when were you gonna tell me you were a fag, huh?” Merle growls, pulling Daryl aside once they returned to Alexandria.

         Daryl jerks his arm out of Merle’s grip. “The fuck ya talkin’ about?” he demands, disguising his panic with annoyance. They’re behind the newly built barn, so no-one can see them unless they actively search.

         Merle snorts. “Dontchu gimme that! I ain’t stupid and I ain’t blind,” he snaps. “I saw you an’ Officer Friendly makin’ eyes at each other.” Merle shakes his head, frowning at Daryl. “Now I know I always joked, but I never thought’d be true, Darlina.”

         “Fuck off, Merle!” Daryl retorts. “It ain’t none of yer business if I am or I ain’t. I make my own decisions. Don’t need yer _approval._ ”

         “Oh-hoh! Is that so?” Merle sneers and throws his arms out to the side. “Didn’t realize you was a princess too. Pardon me, Your Highness.” He grabs Daryl by the front of the shirt. “Now you listen here, baby brother, an’ you listen good. It _is_ my business, an’ I don’t appreciate you keepin’ secrets from me. But I guess since you made friends with everybody else you don’t need Ol’ Merle around, huh?”

         Daryl shoves him off. “I wouldn’t’ve had to keep it a secret if ya weren’t such a homophobic ass!” He backs up a little. “Excuse me fer not wantin’ to get the shit beat outta me fer bein’ happy!” The outburst is embarrassing, and Daryl hides behind his hair. The last thing he needs is for Merle to see him crying.

         That makes Merle go quiet. His expression is...offended. Hurt. “You really think I’d beat the shit outta you? That I’m no better than our old man?”

         “...I don’t know,” Daryl says, watching him. “The way you talk sometimes...’bout Aaron an’ Eric. Why wouldn’t I think that?”

         Merle passes a hand over his face. He shakes his head and starts to turn away, instead turning back and approaching Daryl. “Don’t matter what you do, or what I think of it, I ain’t gonna beat you. I ain’t Dad.” His voice shakes on that last statement.

         Daryl sighs. “I know ya aren’t.” After a moment of hesitation, he looks Merle in the eye. “Just… I just want ya to be happy fer me. I _know_ ya ain’t, and I don’t expect that to change. But it’s still somethin’ I want—wanted.”

         Merle looks away, crossing his arms. His eyes shut and he huffs a breath through his nose. Opening his eyes again, Merle steps closer and places a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. “You’re happy?”

         Daryl nods.

         “Rick, he, uh, he been treatin’ you nice?”

         Daryl nods again. “Yeah.”

         Merle nods back, a slow, thoughtful bob of the head, and sighs. “Then I guess I’m happy for you. Don’t mean I agree with it, but, I can...get over it. Or somethin’. I mean, you’re still my little brother, that ain’t changin’. An’ if you’re happy, then...” He gestures vaguely with his hand. “Yeah.”

         And Daryl takes it for what it is: as close to a blessing as he’ll ever get. He smiles, just a little, as relief spreads through him. “Thank you.” He chews on his bottom lip. “An’ yer not bein’ replaced by anybody. Yer my brother, even if yer a pain.”

         Merle rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He’s grinning though. “Enough of this emotional talk, now. Gonna make _me_ damn pansy at this rate.”

         Of course. Daryl shakes his head, not taking it personally. “Fine. I’ll see ya later then.”

         “You sure? Not gonna shack up with Officer Friendly instead?” Merle teases. “No honeymoon phase, huh?”

         “Shut up.”

         “C’mon, Darlina. I’d be makin’ fun of you no matter who you’re with,” Merle says, grinning. “An’ really? A police officer? Coulda done a lot better.”

         Daryl flips him off. “Just fer that I change my mind. Not comin’ back tonight.” He stomps off, ignoring Merle’s cackle.


	23. Strategy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for still reading this, everyone! <3

         With Tara, Aaron, Heath, and Sasha tracking down Oceanside, and hopefully convincing them to join, that left the rest of them to take down what outposts they could. Unfortunately, Jesus had also been unable to find a separation of food that they could poison. However, he _had_ managed to get a layout of the outside of the Sanctuary. While Daryl remembers much of it, there also had been a lot of the building he hadn’t seen.

         Eugene, Abraham, and Merle take on the task of creating the nastiest traps they can think of to spread throughout the Savior’s territory. Buildings rigged to explode and woods set up with various spike traps, swinging logs, walker pits, and more were just some of what they were creating. Eugene especially had been working on his gun trap again. After all, if the Saviors were going to keep stealing guns from people, might as well be ones that wouldn’t work.

         Throughout all this, Maggie’s pregnancy is progressing. And that has Daryl worrying. While she doesn’t need to visit Dr. Carson often, what with Hershel and Bob both being very capable in their own rights, he is the one with actual experience and equipment. They keep trying to get Gregory to allow Dr. Carson to visit Alexandria instead, but he always refuses.

         And then there’s Shane.

         Daryl sits with Judith in his lap as he and Rick teach Carl to play blackjack. It had been a long day, and Rick had suggested this to help get their minds off things—or ‘thangs’. Daryl smiles and watches as Rick deals for their second game.

         “I think I get it now,” Carl says, looking at his cards. He grins across at Daryl. “And I think I can beat you this time.”

         “Sure ya can,” Daryl teases. “Hit.”

         A knock at the door stops the game.

         “Don’t go looking at the cards while I get this,” Rick tells Carl.

         Carl rolls his eyes. “I won’t.”

         Smiling, Rick answers the door. “Shane?”

         Daryl twists in his seat. _What the hell is he doin’ here?_ he wonders, frowning. His grip on Judith tightens.

         Shane stands on the porch, hands in his pockets. “I was hoping to talk, but it can wait.”

         “No, it’s fine.” Rick glances back at Daryl, Judith, and Carl. “Carl, why don’t you take Judith to bed?”

         Carl takes Judith and Daryl stands. “What do ya want?” he demands as Shane enters the house.

         Shane rolls his eyes. “Rick, could we talk alone?”

         “No. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of Daryl,” Rick replies, hands on his hips. His tone is curious, and just on the edge of stern. “You can sit if you want.”

         Shane waves the offer off and crosses his arms. “It’s none of Daryl’s business.”

         Before Rick can protest, Daryl shakes his head. “’S fine, Rick. I’ll be upstairs.”

         “You sure?” Rick asks.

         “Mhm.” Daryl pats Rick’s stomach and heads upstairs. Of course he doesn’t go to bed. Instead he slips out of sight and listens closely.

         “Okay, so what did you want to talk about?” Rick asks.

         “I know you’ve got the others keeping an eye on me. Watching me,” Shane says, cutting strait to the point. “You don’t trust me.”

         “What? That’s not… No-one is watching you, Shane,” Rick replies, confused.

         Shane snorts. “No? Then why does Beth just happen to show up wherever I am? Huh?”

         Daryl silently swears. He should have told Rick. Or gotten Beth to stop after weeks of Shane doing nothing.

         “I have no idea,” Rick says. “This isn’t exactly a large town, though, maybe it’s coincidence.”

         “Maybe once or twice, but no, this isn’t a coincidence.” Shane’s angry footsteps pace. “If you don’t fucking trust me, you should’ve just left me back in Georgia.”

         “Shane, we do trust you,” Rick tells him. The footsteps stop. “I do, anyway. Most of the others do too.”

         “Most?”

         “I can’t speak for everyone. I’m pretty sure some of the people who lived here first don’t trust any of us.”

         Daryl chews on his thumbnail and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. If Shane gets too agitated, who knew if he’d suddenly attack.

         “ _Right._ ” Shane heads for the front door. His voice picks up again, fainter, “I’m not here to cause trouble. But if you don’t trust me, just say so, and I’ll leave. I’m not gonna be spied on for the rest of my life.”

         The door opens and slams shut before Rick can reply. Rick’s sigh is audible even from upstairs. After a few moments, Rick’s footsteps echo on the stairs. He spots Daryl a raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were the type to eavesdrop,” he teases.

         Daryl shrugs. “Wanted to make sure it didn’t turn nasty.”

         Rick smiles and kisses him. “Nothing to worry about. He’s just being paranoid.”

         “...Actually, he’s right. Beth’s been spyin’ on him,” Daryl confesses. He doesn’t like keeping things from Rick. “I asked her to.”

         “Daryl,” Rick sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Why?”

         “He was sneakin’ in here tryin’ to see Judy without people seein’. Was sayin’ how he’s her real dad an’ shit,” Daryl replies with a frown. “I asked Beth to keep an’ eye on ‘im, to make sure he didn’t do it again.”

         Rick tilts his head. “And you couldn’t have just told me that?”

         Daryl chews on his lip. “Didn’t wanna make a big deal outta it yet. Wanted to see if it was a one time thing.”

         “And was it?” Rick asks, settling his hands on his hips.

         “Sorta. Beth saw him lingering outside the house a couple times. But he didn’t do nothin’ else,” Daryl says. He drops his eyes. “’S why I didn’t say anythin’. Thought it was the last of it. Just forgot to tell Beth to quit it.”

         Rick moves closer and cups Daryl’s cheek. “I appreciate you looking out for us. But please tell Beth to stop. Okay?”

         Daryl nods, and is pleasantly surprised by the gentle kiss he receives.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Daryl isn’t sure what he’d been expecting when they’d gotten word from Ezekiel that Noah and Morgan would be visiting with some interesting news, but it certainly wasn’t for them to turn up with Gavin, his hands tied behind his back.

         “What’s going on? Who’s this?” Rick demands, moving to the front of the crowd that had gathered. Deanna follows with an equally annoyed frown. Despite her letting Rick call most of the shots, now, she still gets involved.

         Morgan smiles and pats Gavin’s shoulder. “This is Gavin. The man who’s been handling the deal between Negan and the Kingdom,” he explains. “And he’s agreed to help us.”

         “Is that why he’s tied up, then?” Andrea asks, arching an eyebrow.

         “Precaution,” Noah says.

         Daryl doesn’t recall Gavin very well. He does remember hearing that he’d been a fairly reasonable person, and not very violent. If it’s true, this could be a good advantage for them.

         “And can I ask why you suddenly turned on Negan?” Rick asks, approaching Gavin.

         Gavin grimaces but doesn’t cower. “We know someone’s been taking out the outposts. And setting up those traps. I wouldn’t have known if an unfortunate incident hadn’t occurred. It’s clear with the number of people you have, and just how much a pain in the ass you’ve been to Negan, you might actually win this war you started.”

         “So ya just wanna be on the winnin’ side, that it?” Daryl snorts.

         “Look, I only joined the Saviors because they promised safety and shelter and food. As it kept growing, it was looking like a better and better deal. But I don’t enjoy killing people or torturing them. Not like the others,” Gavin replies with a shake of his head. “This is going to turn ugly real quick. Either way I know I’m not safe. But I figured, you guys seem like the lesser of two evils right now.”

         “Oh really? And you know that how?” Sasha asks, her hands on her hips.

         Gavin rolls his eyes. “You think I just offered to help immediately? No, they kept me prisoner for a few days. I was going to try to escape, but when I saw how people were treated, even me...” he trails off with a raise of his brows. “Negan’s people are treated worse than your prisoners. It wasn’t a hard call to make.”

         Rick pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ll need to think about it. For now, we do have a jail.” A newly finished one, in fact.

         “I saw that coming,” Gavin mutters as he’s lead away. He calls back over his shoulder, “You might want to think fast. The longer I’m gone, the more danger the Kingdom is in.”

         Daryl stands beside Rick. “We did get help from a different Savior last time. It ain’t completely crazy to think this guy might actually be on our side.”

         Rick turns to him. “Who was the other Savior? Would they help again?”

         Biting on his lower lip, Daryl shrugs. “Name’s Dwight. He only helped ‘cause Negan stole his wife to add to his harem.” He frowns and his lip curls. “Guy was an asshole. Nearly killed ‘im at the end, but decided to just run ‘im off.”

         “Then we won’t try. But it sounds like he has nothing to gain from stopping us either, if we run into him,” Rick replies, his hand resting on the small of Daryl’s back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         “You know, I’ve been goin’ to Hilltop for almost a month now. I don’t need so many people goin’ with me,” Maggie says, watching Merle drive the RV down the road.

         “Yeah, ya do,” Daryl insists. “Don’t care if ya can fight, yer pregnant.”

         Rick nods. “We just want to make sure everything goes the way it should.”

         “Besides, the Saviors are going to be on the alert, what with Gavin missing,” Andrea adds, leaning back in her seat next to Shane. “Plus, Gregory rubs me the wrong way. I don’t trust him.”

         “I don’t either, but there isn’t much we can do,” Maggie replies. “Not right now, anyway.”

         Merle slows the RV and waits for the gates to open.

         “Once this is all over, you won’t have to worry about everyone making a fuss,” Rick says with a quiet chuckle as the RV starts up again, only to stop a few seconds later.

         They climb out and Maggie heads for Dr. Carson’s trailer, Andrea by her side. Jesus smiles at them and says something before approaching the others. “Hey. I’ve got some good new for you,” he greets.

         Rick nods. “Could always use some good news. What is it?”

         Jesus pulls a map from his coat pocket and unfolds it. “We found a cabin a few miles from here, deep in the woods. It’s right between here and the Sanctuary. It’s got a radio, maps, and a whole system of traps set up for walkers.” He points out roughly where the cabin is. “Even found a whole stash of antibiotics inside.”

         “And the Saviors don’t know about it?” Shane asks, brows raised.

         “Not that we could tell. I’ve taken a couple others out there a few times and we haven’t seen any signs of anyone else being there,” Jesus replies.

         Rick smiles and pats Jesus on the shoulder. “That is good news. We might be able to use it as an outpost of our own.”

         “Does the radio still work?” Daryl asks.

         “Unfortunately it’s run out of power,” Jesus says with a shrug.

         “Maybe we can get Eugene to take a look at it,” Rick suggests, leaning against one of the columns of Barrington House.

         “Ah, you’re back,” came Gregory’s ever irritating voice. He walks down the stairs, thumbs hooked into the band of his pants. “No trouble on the way here, I hope.”

         Daryl squints at him. Something itches at the back of his mind.

         “Course not. Unless you was expecting somethin’ to go wrong?” Merle sneers.

         Gregory blinks, then laughs. “What? Of course not. I know _you_ might not recognize manners, but it’s the polite thing to ask when people show up,” he sleazes, ignoring the way Merle clenches his hands into fists. “I’m guessing Marsha’s gone to see Dr. Carson, eh?”

         “It’s Maggie,” Daryl growls.

         Gregory either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care. “We’ve been running a little low on medical supplies. You might want to think about spacing out your, uh, little visits.”

         Rick tilts his head. “Really?” he asks. “That’s the first we’re hearing of it.”

         “I’m afraid so,” Gregory says, spreading his hands and shrugging. “What with you insisting on taking my people with you on your little escapades out there, well, people get hurt.”

         Jesus opens his mouth to make a comment, frowning, but Dr. Carson’s door opening cuts him off. Maggie and Andrea join them by the stairs.

         “Everything alright?” Rick asks.

         “Peachy,” Maggie replies with a grin. “Glenn’s been worryin’ over nothin’.”

         “It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” Andrea says.

         “True.”

         The sound of trucks rolling up to the gate, tires crunching the dirt and gravel, gets all of their attention. Daryl can see the guards on top exchanging looks and the gates swing open. At the sound of footsteps, he turns to see Gregory disappearing into Barrington House.

         Dread settles in the pit of his stomach.

         The trucks spread out and park just inside the walls. Men and women get out, weapons in hand. Simon strides to the front, sneering beneath his large mustache. He opens the door of the lead truck.

         Big black boots stomp onto the dirt path. The familiar tall form swaggers closer, barbed-wire wrapped bat swinging back and forth.

         “Ho-ly _shit_. You must be the assholes I’ve been hearing _so_ much about,” Negan says, grin all teeth.


	24. Negan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting the warning at the beginning here just in case my update of the warnings isn't seen.  
> WARNING: Due to this being a Negan chapter, there is violence and some gore; not as much as you'd get from the show maybe, but I wanted to let you know anyway

         Negan strolls up to the group, swinging Lucille up to rest on his shoulder. His eyes rove over them all, taking them in, before flicking up to Barrington House. “Simon. Go and let our friend know we’re here.”

         Simon smirks and jogs up the steps and into the museum. A moment later he returns, Gregory babbling at his side.

         “Gregory! So _nice_ of you to join us,” Negan booms, leaning back with a grin. “And I really should thank you for letting us know about this whole mess.”

         Daryl growls low in his throat. Of course Gregory ratted them out. He’d asked for their help, then betrayed them. Again. Daryl wasn’t the least bit surprised. Though so soon? Daryl has to wonder what caused that.

         “You did good, Gregory,” Simon praises, slapping him on the back. “Though you should’ve said something sooner.”

         Gregory laughs uneasily. “I just wanted to be sure. Wouldn’t want to call you in for no reason. You’re all very busy.”

         “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I think it’s time to deal with _these_ people,” Negan announces, gesturing at Rick with Lucille.

         Simon gives a whistle. “On your knees!”

         Rick’s lip pulls back in a snarl. “Not gonna happen.”

         “Rick,” Daryl says, hushed. “Just do it.”

         Negan’s brows raise. “Looks like one of you isn’t a total moron at least.”

         “I ain’t kneeling for no-one!” Merle shouts. “You can kiss my ass!”

         “Fer fuck’s sake, Merle, don’t!” Daryl snaps, kneeling himself. He sees Andrea and Maggie lowering themselves to the dirt, though Andrea looks like she wants to give Negan a piece of her mind. Daryl really hopes she doesn’t.

         “We won’t give you a third chance,” Simon warns, hands on his hips.

         Slowly, Rick, Merle, and Shane kneel. All of them look ready to start a fight.

         “Good. I was starting to think I’d have to punish one of you early,” Negan says with a crooked grin. “Allow me to properly introduce myself. The name’s Negan. And you six are in for a _world_ of shit.” His gaze falls on Rick and he points Lucille at him. “You. I just _bet_ you’re the leader of this band of merry dickheads, huh?”

         Rick glares up at him, but doesn’t respond. His hands clench into fists against his thighs.

         Negan leans forward, cupping his hand around his ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. You _are_ the leader, right?”

         “Yes,” Rick says tightly.

         “Now that wasn’t so hard _was_ it?” Negan leans back. “What was your name again?”

         “Rick Grimes.”

         Negan snaps his gloved fingers. “Rick Grimes.” He paces in front of the group. “You and yours have been a BIG pain in my ass, Rick. And I do _not_ appreciate that.” Negan lets Lucille sway back and forth in his grasp. “You’ve killed hundreds of my men. I can’t let that go unpunished. So.” Negan stops. “I think to start, I’ll take two right here, right now.”

         Daryl just manages to keep from shaking. This can’t be happening. Not again. Daryl’s heart pounds in his chest.

         “The fuck you will!” Merle snarls. He goes to get to his feet but Daryl grabs him, hauling him back down. “Let go of me!”

         Negan chuckles. “Maybe I’ll just go ahead and choose you two.”

         Merle spits on the ground. “Ain’t afraid of you.”

         “You aren’t going to kill any of us,” Rick says, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I won’t let you.”

         “Oh, well, _excuse_ me! You won’t _let_ me?” Negan’s smile disappears. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you don’t have that choice, Rick.” He looks over them all again, and his gaze stops on Maggie. “You should count yourself lucky, sweetheart, I would never kill a pregnant woman.”

         Maggie doesn’t respond, but her glare never wavers. And despite Negan’s assurance, she wraps her arms protectively around her stomach.

         Negan points Lucille at Shane. “You… There’s something about your face that just pisses me off. Maybe I’ll choose you.”

         “Fuck you!” Shane snaps.

         “No, fuck _you,_ ” Negan replies with a grin. The bat stops in front of Daryl’s face. “You’ve been smart so far. You’re clearly strong too. It’d be a shame to waste that potential, but I’d get over it.” Negan swings Lucille in front of Merle, pausing it an inch from his nose. “You annoy me, but you could be broken in eventually. Still, I wonder if it’s worth it.” He strides over to Andrea. “Honey, you could be a _very_ valuable asset,” he leers, licking his lips. “Always have room for another wife.”

         “Stop this!” Rick demands, struggling with himself about whether he should just get up, damn the consequences, or not.

         Negan looks at him. “I’d _love_ to kill _you_ , Rick. But I have a feeling you’d be more useful to me alive.” He struts over to Rick. “Yeah. I think once you see how things work around here, you’ll be a _very_ good boy.”

         Daryl tries to meet Rick’s eyes, tell him to not put up a fight right now, but Rick isn’t looking at him. He drops his head, watching Negan from underneath his bangs. Negan _will_ kill someone, it’s just a question of who. Part of him wants to sacrifice himself. Maybe it would keep anyone else from being killed. Daryl can see the appraising way Negan looks at him, though, and he knows he’d rather die than be tortured by him again.

         Before Daryl can say anything, Shane stands, whipping out a pistol and firing at Negan. Despite the clear surprise, Negan dodges. The bullet whizzes past and hits one of his people instead. With a roar of fury, Negan whips around. Lucille connects with Shane’s head and he topples to the ground.

         “Shane!” Rick shouts, horrified.

         “You little SHIT!” Negan snarls, bringing Lucille down on Shane’s back. “You almost hit me!”

         Shane gasps and fights to get back up, blood pouring down his face. “’S what I was trying to do,” he wheezes.

         “Simon, grab that pistol! Make sure none of the others gets any bright ideas,” Negan orders, Lucille swinging like a pendulum. He smiles. “Everybody watch real close now. Wouldn’t want to miss this.” Negan raises Lucille high. “Especially since one of you is going next.” Lucille smashes into Shane’s skull.

         Again.

         And again.

         And again.

         Shane gives a final twitch, then falls still. His head is nothing more than bloody pulp on the ground.

         “NO! No!” Rick’s been screaming the entire time, his voice scratchy and raw. “ _Shane!_ ”

         Andrea’s screams are the only thing louder. She sobs and crawls over to Shane’s body.

         Negan chuckles, flicking blood and brain off Lucille. “That was _so_ satisfying,” he says with a shake of his head. Negan turns. “Now… Who’s next? Lucille is one _thirsty_ girl.” He laughs and looks over them. “No volunteers? Guess I’ll have to choose again.” Negan whistles and waves over a couple of his people. “Hold down this one,” he says, pointing at Daryl.

         Daryl grits his teeth, but allows the men to grabs his arms and hold them behind his back. Simon strolls over and tangles his fingers in Daryl’s hair, yanking his head up.

         Negan grins. “There we go.”

         “Get your hands off ‘im!” Merle snarls. “You gonna kill anyone, kill me!”

         “That was the plan,” Negan says, stopping in front of Merle. “If I had to make a guess, I’d say you two are brothers, yeah?” At Merle’s growl he chuckles again. “Yeah, thought so. Which is exactly why I want him _especially_ to watch this.” Negan glances at Daryl out of the corner of his eyes. “No closing your eyes, or Blondie over there is next. You understand me?”

         Daryl feels tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

         “I said, _do you understand me_?” Negan snaps.

         “Yes.” Daryl meets Merle’s eyes. He wonders if this will be worse than seeing his brother become a walker. Than having to put him down himself. Daryl had never wanted to know.

         “Good. Let’s get this over with.” Negan pulls back, ready to swing.

         Gunshots ring out. People shout and some of Negan’s men collapse. They quickly return fire as Ezekiel leads the charge into Hilltop.

         “What the fuck!?” Negan shouts.

         Merle uses the surprise to deck him. Daryl lurches backwards, shoving Negan’s men off and headbutting Simon.

         “Shit!” Negan hisses, stumbling away from Merle’s well aimed punch to the face. He swings Lucille, missing by a centimeter. Roaring, Shiva tackles Negan. He manages to roll and squirm out from under her, swearing up a storm. Only to nearly get shot in the head by Rick. “Fucking _fuck!_ ”

         Jesus dodges and flips, using his martial arts skills to beat back some of the assholes that were trying to stop them. He grabs Maggie’s arm and hauls her off to the side and out of the way of the battle.

         Daryl slashes Simon’s arm with his hunting knife as he ducks past to help Negan up. The two flee along with the rest of Negan’s crew. They flood back into the trucks and beat a hasty retreat. “Yeah, ya better run!” Daryl shouts after them.

         “Hah! Fuckin’ assholes,” Merle snorts, wiping blood from his face. “Run off the first sign they ain’t gonna win.”

         Daryl turns and throws himself at Merle, not giving a shit that his brother doesn’t do hugs. Merle is alive and it’s a damn miracle.

         “Whoa! Calm down there, Baby Brother,” Merle says, hands raised and unsure where to put them.

         Pulling away, Daryl looks away and rubs at his eyes. “Thought you were gonna die.” _Again._

         “Well I didn’t. So get a grip,” Merle grumbles. He steps away, letting Rick take his spot.

         Rick brings Daryl into a hug and kisses him. “I was so worried,” Rick says. His hands shake against Daryl’s back.

         Daryl can see in Rick’s eyes the little piece of him that broke. He never wanted to see that in Rick again. Not that that was entirely possible in this world. “’M sorry ‘bout Shane.” Daryl wipes the tears from Rick’s cheeks with his thumbs. It was the truth, too. As much as he didn’t like Shane, he knew Rick saw him as a brother. And seeing him get his head bashed in… As much of an ass as Shane was, he hadn’t deserved that death.

         Rick shudders and his head drops against Daryl’s shoulder. “Why the hell’d he do that?”

         “Maybe he thought it’d keep Negan from killin’ anyone else,” Daryl says. Like he’d been about to do. But he won’t tell Rick that. Can’t tell Rick that. He knows Rick would have been upset.

         Taking a steady breath, Rick stands up properly. He rubs his hand over Daryl’s back in thanks and pulls himself together. Rick turns to Ezekiel, who has crouched to scratch under Shiva’s chin. “How did you know we needed help?”

         “Actually, that would be my doing,” Jesus pipes up. He’s got a hand on Maggie’s arm and she looks a little ill. “Before Negan could see I hid so I could get one of our walkie-talkies. I contacted King Ezekiel that way.”

         Rick nods. “Thank you. I don’t know how bad things would’ve gotten if you hadn’t done that.” He smiles tiredly at Ezekiel. “And thank you for helping us.”

         “Of course, Rick. We are allies and friends,” Ezekiel replies, placing his hand on Rick’s shoulder. “I only wish we could have arrived sooner. I’m sorry for your loss.”

         Andrea looks up at them with red eyes from where she still kneels by Shane’s body. “W-what are we doing with him? The...body? We have to bury him.”

         Rick’s eyes flick to and away from Shane, instead looking Andrea in the eye. “We’ll bring him home. Bury him in Alexandria and give him a proper funeral.”

         “Okay.” Andrea’s voice is small, soft and relieved if only a little.

         “You!”

         They all turn to see Maggie charging at Gregory. Apparently he had the nerve to come out of Barrington House to see if the fighting was over.

         “You bastard!” Maggie snarls.

         “Ah, Margaret. So good to see you’re not hurt,” Gregory says, eyes wide and smile shaky. He looks to Jesus for help, but Jesus merely crosses his arms and arches an eyebrow.

         Maggie stops in front of him. “You’re a traitor and a coward!” The gun is steady where it’s trained between Gregory’s eyes. “Every breath you take is a waste of fresh air. I won’t let that continue.”

         Gregory holds his hands up, pleading. “Dear, please, be reasona—”

         The gun goes off.

         Gregory crumples to the ground in a spray of blood.

         “My _name_ is _Maggie,_ ” Maggie sneers and holsters her gun. She turns and walks down the stairs. “I don’t care if he was your leader,” Maggie tells Jesus. “I wasn’t lettin’ that rat stay alive after what he’s done.”

         Jesus sighs and looks away from the body. “Can’t exactly say I’m sorry to see him gone.” He tilts his head. “But we’ll need someone to lead this place.”

         “Why not yourself?” Ezekiel asks with a smile. “You would make a fine leader.”

         “No. I’m not interested in leading,” Jesus says, shaking his head. “I don’t know the first thing about being a leader. We need someone who actually does.” He looks at Maggie. “Like you.”

         “Me?” Maggie asks, brows rising. “I highly doubt the people here would follow me.”

         Jesus smiles. “Why wouldn’t they? I’ve been paying attention when you’re around. You’d make an excellent leader.”

         “I agree,” Rick says. “You worked with Deanna, and in the beginning you managed to deal with Gregory. You could do it, if it’s something you want to do.”

         Maggie blinks and looks around. “I’d have to discuss it with Glenn.”

         “And if he agrees?” Jesus prompts.

         “If Glenn agrees, then I’ll do it,” Maggie replies.


	25. Where We’ve Been and Where We’re Going

****Daryl and Rick stand across from Gavin, where he looks over the map on the small table they’d brought down to his cell.

****“This is very accurate. I’m surprised you haven’t won this war already,” Gavin says. “What exactly do you need _me_ to tell you about this?”

****“We need to know where people are located. Where the workers are, where the greatest concentration of soldiers is, and where the weak points are,” Rick says. He points a finger to one spot. “We already know many workers are here. If we know exactly where they spend most of their time, we can try and avoid killing anyone innocent.”

****Gavin nods and looks at the map again. “Well, I can’t be sure if it’s changed since I’ve been gone, but the workers do stay in that area most of the time. Higher ups get top level access.” He points to several spots on the map. “These areas will be the most guarded, now that Negan knows about you.”

****“An’ weak spots?” Daryl asks.

****“I don’t think there are any, really,” Gavin replies with a shrug. “Negan’s on high alert.”

****Rick sighs. “Alright. We’ll come up with a plan. One last thing.” He rolls up the map. “There’s another group out there. The Scavengers. Are they working with Negan?”

****Gavin frowns, then his eyes widen. “Oh, those people that live in that dump?”

****“Yes,” Rick says.

****“Honestly, I never interacted with them. That was Simon’s job. One of them.” Gavin crosses his arms. “He always said they were “uncooperative”. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about them helping Negan.”

****Rick looks to Daryl who shakes his head. “Alright, well, the information you have given is helpful. If it’s true,” says Rick, exiting the cell. Daryl follows him out onto the street. Rick sighs. “I don’t suppose there was anything we did before that could work again?”

****Daryl nods slowly. “Maybe. There’s a highway ‘round here. I don’t know when exactly, but a herd is headed this way. We can lead ‘em to the Sanctuary, get ‘em in somehow.”

****“We’d have to get the workers out first,” Rick says, like Daryl knew he would.

****“There’s somethin’ else we can try, too,” Daryl adds. He bites at his nails. “Prob’ly won’t like though.”

****Rick pulls his hand away from his mouth and slides his arm around Daryl’s waist. “I want to hear it anyway. Any idea is welcome at this point.”

****Daryl leans into Rick’s touch. It always feels so good. “Negan used it against us, last time. I’m thinkin’ we can use it against him,” he starts. Daryl looks at the ground. “If we can find some walkers, keep ‘em restrained or somthin’, we can put their blood on our weapons. We’d only need to scratch the Saviors fer it to work. They’d die an’ turn an’ kill each other.”

****“That’s sick!” Rick looks at him with wide eyes.

****“Told ya ya wouldn’t like it,” Daryl huffs. “An’ like I said, Negan did it to us, ain’t like I came up with it. Technically it was Eugene’s idea before anyway.”

****Rick sighs. “I know, I didn’t mean you were sick. Just that...” He shifts and rests his hands on his hips. “We’ll bring it up to the others. See what they think. But I’d rather that be a last resort.”

****Daryl nods. “Just wanted ya to know. Can make better decisions if ya know all the options.”

****“Yeah. That’s true,” Rick replies. He kisses Daryl. “Thank you. I know you just want this to be over. I do too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

****The plan to get the workers to safety hinges on Gavin. Daryl doesn’t exactly like it, but Rick, Maggie, and Natania agreed to it. Ezekiel had been just as wary, but eventually agreed as well. So that’s that. Right now he knows Gavin—sporting several bruises and cuts to make it convincing—is back at the Sanctuary. If all goes according to plan, Negan won’t have time to start looking into his story.

****Daryl shoots and sets off another explosion to draw the walkers. He’s having major déjà vu, but with the situation being a bit different, he hopes it’ll end better. His walkie crackles to life.

****“Daryl?” Rick’s voice comes through.

****“Yeah, ‘m here.”

****“Gavin just radioed in,” Rick says. “He told us he got as many as he could out while Merle distracted Negan and Simon. They’re headed for Oceanside right now with Tyreese.”

****“Good,” Daryl replies, shooting again. “An’ the sewers?”

****There’s a few moments pause. “Hershel says they’re working on it. Most of them were already cleared, but some still need to be.”

****“Got it.”

****“Be careful out there.”

****“You too.”

****Daryl gets the last bomb to go, veers down a side road, and presses a different button on the walkie-talkie. “Abraham, ya there?”

****“Yep. Ready?”

****“The last one just went off.”

****“Roger.”

****Daryl twists and see the walkers heading down the road right for the Sanctuary. Nodding to himself, he continues on. He’s on a time crunch. Daryl speeds down the dusty roads, hair whipping in the wind.

****The walkie starts up again.

****“Daryl, are you on your way here?” Carol asks.

****“Yep. Abraham should’ve done his bit by now,” Daryl replies.

****“Good. Cyndie told me Oceanside is heading over.”

****“Got it.”

****The walkie-talkie goes silent again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

****Rick spots T-Dog as he checks the last house in Alexandria. “Hey, is everyone accounted for?”

****“Yeah. Dale and Andrea are keeping those who can’t fight further back,” T-Dog explains, walking with Rick. “Rosita has given the rest weapons. Abraham said he’s got the RPG Launcher handled.”

****“Good, good,” Rick says, nodding.

****“Dad!” Carl shouts as he runs over. “We’ve gotta go!”

****Rick’s hand lands on Carl’s shoulder. “What happened?”

****Carl shrugs his hand off and leads them towards the sewers. “Merle said Simon’s headed this way with a bunch of trucks.”

****“T-Dog, take Carl to the sewers. I’ve got one last thing to do,” Rick says.

****“I want to help,” Carl protests.

****“No!” Rick curbs his panic. “No. I need you with the others. With Judith. So you can protect them, okay?”

****Carl opens and closes his mouth. Sighing, he nods, and follows after T-Dog.

****After making sure they have everything, and that anything that could lead to their hiding spot is gone, Rick joins the others in the sewers.

****He, Michonne, Tara, and Rosita all take point at the various spots in Alexandria where the manholes are. Rick climbs the ladder and listens closely.

****At first, everything is quiet. Then a distant voice, clearly with aid of a microphone, calls out. “You didn’t think we wouldn’t find you all eventually?” Simon asks. “Why don’t you come out now, and we’ll get through this civilly?”

****Rick frowns. For the millionth time, he feels grateful for everything Daryl has told him. Not that he’d have believed Simon, but knowing that he was even more bloodthirsty than Negan was, was useful.

****“Now don’t make me count! You really don’t want to know what will happen when I get to three!” Simon tells the empty town. “One!”

****Glancing back at the people behind him, Rick can see they’re all prepared to fight.

****“Two!”

****Rick grips the handle of his hatchet.

****“Fuck it. Blow ‘em up!” Simon shouts.

****With a boom, the ground shakes, and the front gates crash to the ground. The sound of people rushing through Alexandria causes quiet murmurs to pass through the people.

****Rick holds his hand up, silencing his group. He needs to hear.

****There’s confusion up above.

****Rick brings his hand down. He shoves open the manhole cover and, followed by the others, he attacks the first Saviors he sees.

****All over the town, Alexandrians spill out from the sewers. They hack, slash, shoot, and stab any Saviors they can. No holding back. Michonne decapitates several Saviors at once with a single swing of her katana. Another boom—this time the cause is Abraham firing the RPG into the trucks.

****Rick yanks his hatchet out of the head of one Savior, using the momentum to throw back another. The second Savior shoots, the bullet grazing Rick’s arm. Ignoring the pain, he pulls out his colt python and shoots the Savior in the eye.

****Smoke clogs the air. Rick coughs and pulls his shirt up over his nose as he continues on. The gray-orange haze makes his eyes sting.

****Movement catches his attention. Rick turns in time to see Deanna shoving Spencer away. A bullet bursts through her head.

****_Boom!_

****Spencer’s scream is made silent by the near explosion. He looks up, and gaze locks onto Rick. “You! This is all your fault!” Spencer charges, knife drawn.

****Rick stumbles back, gripping Spencer by the arms. The knife slashes barely an inch from his nose.

****“If you hadn’t shown up, none of this would’ve happened!” Spencer shouts, spit flying. “Ggh!” He looks down at the sword sticking out through his stomach. Shaking, Spencer drops the knife.

****Michonne pulls her katana back. Spencer crumples to the ground. Brows furrowed, she stabs him in the head, making sure he won’t come back. Michonne glances at Rick. “Are you okay?”

****“Yeah. Fine,” Rick replies. “Thanks.”

****Michonne nods and sighs. “I feel bad doing that. But we can’t fight among ourselves. Not right now.”

****Rick agrees. He jogs off into the smoke, looking for Simon, that’s the guy they need to deal with right now. Both Negan and Simon need to die. Everyone else can be dealt with as needed.

****He finds Simon trying to free his leg from a pile of rubble. Rick grips his gun. Carl climbs over a bit of debris, causing Rick to pause. His own gun is drawn.

****Simon sneers up at Carl. “You gonna shoot me, kid?”

****Carl doesn’t reply. Instead he does exactly that. Simon goes limp, blood streaming from the hole in his forehead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

****Daryl heads down another road and moments later Merle races by on a motorcycle of his own. Probably from the Sanctuary. They nod as they pass, Merle grinning. Shaking his head, Daryl makes another turn.

****A black truck careens around a corner. Daryl swerves to avoid it. His bike tips and he’s sent tumbling off. Daryl rolls to try and lessen the impact, but a sharp pain in his shoulder tells him he didn’t quite manage it.

****A door opens and slams shut.

****“Oh _man,_ what a surprise! Today might just be my lucky day after all,” Negan gloats.

****Daryl grunts as a boot presses against his back, shoving him into the dirt.

****“Ah-ah. No running,” Negan taunts. He grabs Daryl’s arm and hauls him up.

****“ _Shit._ ” Daryl hisses in pain as his arm is jerked behind his back and held there. Warm breath passes over his ear. He shudders.

****Negan tightens his grip. “Now I couldn’t help but notice that walkie-talkie you’ve got there,” he says, voice low, tapping a finger against the walkie clipped to Daryl’s vest. “Why don’t you call Rick for me, huh? Give him a little _surprise._ ”

****He doesn’t have much choice. Daryl uses his free hand to turn the walkie to Rick’s station. “Rick.”

****“Daryl? It’s early. Did something happen?” Rick replies a moment later.

****Negan snatches the walkie-talkie from Daryl’s vest. “Hello, Rick.”

****There’s a few seconds of silence.

****“Negan,” Rick growls. “What did you do?”

****“What did _I_ do?” Negan repeats, having the nerve to sound offended. “I think _I’m_ the one that should be asking that question. You’re the one that blew a hole in _my_ home you _asshole!_ ”

****“If you hurt Daryl...”

****Negan scoffs. “I haven’t hurt a hair on his pretty little head. Yet. And if you’d like to keep it that way, I suggest we have a little chat. Face to face. Man to man.” He grins. “If you _are_ man enough, Rick.”

****“...How do I know you won’t bring others with you?” Rick asks.

****“I’m a man of my word. So few people can say that nowadays,” Negan replies, twisting Daryl’s arm when he attempts to struggle out of his grasp. “It’ll just be you, me, and your boyfriend.”

****Daryl stills. How had Negan figured out his relationship with Rick? Unless he was just being an ass? It was hard to tell.

****“Where and when?” Rick demands.

 

 

* * *

 

 

****Daryl wonders if this field is just the inevitable battleground for them. He glares up at Negan, who forced him to kneel while they wait for Rick. Lucille is pressed just against the nape of his neck.

****Whistle fading, Negan pretends to check a watch he doesn’t have. “Is that prick always late for important meetings or do you think he’s doing this on purpose?”

****Feeling the question was rhetorical, Daryl doesn’t respond. He tests his shoulder, rolling it a little, and winces. It’s not broken or dislocated. Possibly just twisted. And bruised to hell and back.

****“ _Finally!_ ” Negan’s voice carries across the field.

****Daryl looks up to see Rick picking his way through the tall grass. Their eyes meet. He can see faint smears of blood on Rick’s face, but it’s clear it doesn’t belong to him.

****“You’re late, Rick. Almost had a mind to kill Daryl and leave,” Negan says with a smirk.

****Rick stops a few feet away. “You should’ve told your people about that. They were the ones holding me up.”

****Negan shrugs. “We can pass the blame as much as we want, but that’d be a waste of time.” He nudges Daryl’s head with Lucille. “Let me get _right_ to the point. You’re going to surrender. I’m going to kill a few of your people to make up for the _damage_ you’ve caused me. And then you and the rest of your people are going to gather _shit_ I want and give it to me when I come to collect.” Negan licks his lips and grins. “Also, I’m going to take Daryl here with me. Make sure you actually do what I say.”

****It’s difficult, keeping still and not showing the fear he felt. Daryl couldn’t go back to that cell. He couldn’t.

****“Actually, I have a better idea,” Rick says. He steps closer, a smirk of his own gracing his lips. “ _You_ will surrender. I’ll kill you. And everyone you’ve enslaved will be free.”

****Negan barks a laugh. “Oh, you’ve got _balls,_ Rick, I’ll give you that. But you really need to know when to quit.” His smiles fades.

****Daryl sees why a moment later.

****Emerging from the trees are familiar faces. Lots of familiar faces. His family is there, along with the Kingdom and Hilltop. Everyone is armed, and all of them are aiming right at Negan.

****Negan’s face twists in rage. “You lied!”

****Rick tilts his head. “I don’t remember ever saying _I_ would show up alone.” He raps his fingers over the hilt of his machete, where it’s tucked into his holster. “Step away from Daryl. You won’t get a chance to even raise your bat before you’re filled with holes.”

****“You _SUCK ASS_ , Rick!” Negan roars, pushing Daryl aside. “This was supposed to be a meeting between you and me!” He swears as a bullet pierces his leg, sending him to his knees.

****Rick strides forward, stopping right in front of him. He unsheathes his machete. “Any last words?”

****Negan’s lip curls into a snarl. “I thought you might be someone worth my respect. Turns out I was wrong.”

****“I wouldn’t want your respect anyway,” Rick says, and brings the machete down into Negan’s skull.

 

 

* * *

 

 

****Like the gentle summer breeze dancing through the leaves on the trees, peace sweeps through Daryl for probably the first time in a long time. He walks through the newly rebuilt Alexandria with a small smile. Judith giggles where she’s perched against his hip.

****There’s still construction going on. Despite the repairs being done, they all still want to expand. Finish the farm, build more houses, a proper hospital, even a school. Daryl remembers this time from before; but unlike before, Negan’s presence isn’t hanging over them like storm clouds. This time, they might actually get to keep going.

****Hilltop and the Kingdom are also working on expanding. Oceanside has taken back their home and the Sanctuary. What Saviors are left have either joined, or been kicked out if they were loyal to Negan. The way it should have been before.

****Daryl joins Rick on the porch of their house. “Hey.”

****“Hey,” Rick replies with a toothy grin. He leans over and kisses Daryl, then Judith’s head. “You look happy.”

****“I am happy,” Daryl says. He shifts, shoulder brushing against Rick’s. “’M tryin’ not to think too hard ‘bout the future. Knowin’ that I won’t know what’s comin’ is gonna be hard to get used to again.”

****Rick takes Daryl’s hand in his. “We might not know what the future has in store for us anymore. But we’ll get through it. Together.”

****Daryl smiles and links his fingers with Rick’s. “Together.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, my lovely readers, is the end!   
> I want to thank you all so, so much for sticking with this story. This fic went on a lot longer than I expected it to, and the fact that you all kept reading and commenting makes me so happy. And so I hope the ending is to your liking.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, you may be happy to know that I've got two other fics already in the works. In fact, I'll probably start posting today or tomorrow. One is a total AU, and very much a comedy (with some serious aspects). The other is more canon divergent, and involves vampires (and a lot of angst). I've even got a third fic in the outlining stage. So you haven't seen the last of me! ;)


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